Until We Meet Again
by Lourdes23
Summary: Capell has returned, renewed frienships and reclaimed his love. Yet new dangers loom, a secret that has been hidden for over a year - one that only The Liberator can defeat. Will he even try once he knows the threat? SPOILERS!
1. How Long Is Too Long?

**I've discovered a game that I may love as much as the Final Fantasy Franchise – and from ME that's saying something. In honor of this new adventure I give to you my first game fanfic. I hope it does the story justice. Warning for End Game Spoilers!!!**

Chapter 1: How Long is Too Long?

He was a hero.

True King of Cassandra. Liberator. Savior of the world. Slayer of the False God – as Veros was now called. Blade of the Unblessed.

The first time he had heard these titles he had thought they were speaking of Sigmund.

But Sigmund hadn't brought down Veros; nor was he an Unblessed.

No, it was him they hailed; Capell.

He heard the rumors, the stories they told of him. Sometimes they were told right to his face, the speaker unaware who they were really spinning their tale for. He wasn't exactly in disguise; his former clothes would be a dead giveaway to anyone who had known him before. But to the masses he was just a traveling musician. It was safer that way, at least for now. He'd gotten caught once already claiming to be a dead man and only gotten off unscathed because he had still been successfully cutting chains. Because the Aristos had needed him, though none came out directly and said it. Better to keep Sigmund's armor and sword tucked away in the large pack he strapped to his back.

At least until he got home – wherever that would be now.

For the first few months, in the desolate palace where the Force had made their final stand, he had begun to wonder if making that promise to return had been a set up for failure. There was no way off of the moon; nothing there to take him safely back to the world he had fought so hard to protect. And with the exception of the little squirrel-like creatures that lived in the palace like lunar house mice, he was the only living thing there. It was depressing, but he kept moving. Sitting in one place wasn't going to do him any good.

Then came the fateful day he found a very fortunate room.

A teleporter on the moon? Really? He had almost laughed himself into hysterics when he had first happened upon it. Yet when he climbed up on to the stone platform nothing had happened. Of course it wouldn't work. Veros was dead – his power gone with him. The hope that had briefly flared within Capell died away instantly. He was back at the beginning; trapped with no idea how to get home. The moon's vast palace became smaller and smaller to him – its strangely beautiful architecture dulling with every passing moment in his eyes. It might as well have been the prison cell where his strange journey had first started. He really saw no difference between the two.

Then sometime later, he wasn't certain how long it had been – days at least – he was playing Percipere to find a squirrel-mouse for his next meal, when he realized _this was magic, too_. Magic that worked without the moon god! Saruleus' flute still had power and it wasn't waning. Each tune he tried still worked and the mystic light still glowed whenever he played the correct notes.

This was it, he was sure of it. Maybe Sigmund really had been watching over him. Whatever force was at work, one thing was certain – it was time for Capell to write the most important song of his life.

He had no idea how long it had taken him to compose the song that would give power to the transporter once more. So many times he had thought of giving up, so many failed attempts had driven him to such frustration that he nearly snapped the instrument in two on several occasions. But always his promise kept him going back to the instrument and trying again. Marus Lunaris had the ability to drain the moon's power from others at the height of its influence – there had to be a song that could give power as well! And at last, when the platform suddenly flared brightly as he sat beside it working out the notes sometime much later, Capell knew at last that he had done it.

Standing once more on the teleporter he played the notes of his newest creation and blinked at the light that enveloped him. He was weightless; sightless, and an instant later he opened his eyes to find himself in the Cobasna Timberlands, the lush forest as beautiful as he remembered. The heady perfume of soil and vegetation assaulted his senses, smothering out the sterile scent of the lunar palace he had grown so accustomed to.

And this time Capell did laugh until he cried. He collapsed onto hands and knees on the soft, black soil and watched fat tears absorb into the ground as he lost control, laughing and crying in a bizarre reaction that would have certainly convinced any passersby that he was mad. But none of that mattered anymore.

It had worked.

XXXX

Vic was playing on his last nerve. The former thief had all the tact of a fisherman, and did nothing to hide the informality in public. Even now that Edward was fully equipped with Vic's most guarded secret – and the kid knew Edward had found out – Vic still taunted and goaded the dark man without mercy.

"Yeah, I know what time it is. I also know ya've got a mountain of reports to review," the familiar drawl hadn't lightened up since moving to Burguss with him two years ago, "and they've gotta be signed today."

"I can either review the reports or I can hold the audience," Edward growled and resisted the urge to throw the stack back at the smug face across the desk; "I don't have enough hours in the day for both."

"Then ya shouldn't waste time trainin' with yer sword all mornin'," Vic crossed thin arms and glowered, "ya'd have more time if ya gave it up. Kings don't go into battle, ya know." Edward's fists flexed on his knees. The limit had been reached.

"You know, you should make a proper appointment with the dress maker already, _Victoria_." Edward stood abruptly and rounded the desk towards the door without a backwards glance. Vic's face turned a bright scarlet but the heavy door shut behind the king, muffling the shrieking curses that followed his back. It was rare that he openly taunted the kid about that, but Vic had broken the unspoken rules. Trying to take Edward's sword from him was the same as prying Vic's secret into the opening. You just didn't do it. Though the giant blade wasn't constantly strapped to his back any longer, it was still as much a part of him as it had been during the days of the Force. It was his strength and connection to his past. Training in the mornings kept him connected to the man he had been, and couldn't afford to forget.

The audience was preferable to the stack of reports anyway. Holding court gave him a chance to talk with real people, not nobles. It kept him connected to the outside world, as living in a castle had left him feeling isolated lately. He used to walk the roads freely, coming and going as he – and the Force – pleased. Now he was a prisoner of his title, or so it sometimes felt. Still duty bound him to take the responsibility; it was the least he could do after all that had already been lost to this world. Edward marched smartly to the throne room and took his seat, waiting for the attendant to admit the first in the waiting line of petitioners.

Early afternoon stretched slowly into late afternoon and then evening; the line dwindling from what he could see whenever the doors opened. Only a few more petitioners would be allowed an audience before the day's session was ended. Edward dismissed the woman before him after hearing her petition and having it noted in the log as a request of merit. The attendant waiting until the record had been made and then admitted the next citizen. The invited man stepped forward and removed the wide-brimmed hat from his head.

A silly lopsided smile greeted the king and Edward's composure slipped away. That there had been two with the same face had been enough of a coincidence and it only made sense when they were found to be related. There was no way there could be a third…

The lost Liberator nodded his head in a bashful – seemingly apologetic – greeting.

"I kept my promise, Ed." Capell said with a self-conscious shrug. The gaped-mouth expression he was receiving from his best friend wasn't really the greeting he had hoped for.

"Ca-" Edward faltered on the name briefly, having spoken it so little lately, "Capell?!"

"Yeah," The man before the dais shifted uncomfortably and glanced at the floor – had his reappearance been as desired as he had hoped? Two words – something he had heard on his way to Port Zala – kept echoing in his mind and he found himself thinking that maybe there was no longer a place for him in this world, or in his friends' lives. "So… how's things?"

The awkwardness of the reunion was lost when Capell was solidly thumped on the back and then pulled into a brotherly embrace. Edward's laughter was deafening so close to Capell's ear, but the joy the dark man expressed was enough to draw out a wide and relieved smile from the Liberator.

"How did-" There were so many questions bouncing within his head Edward couldn't even choose which one to ask first. "When – I don't believe it! How is this possible?!"

Capell pulled the flute from his pack and tapped it to the side of his head. "Don't ask me how long it took to realize this was the answer to getting home. I'll never live it down if you find out."

"Wait – let me send for the others," Edward grinned widely. "They'll …" His thought trailed off as he peered pointedly behind Capell and then looked the young man in the eyes. "Where's Aya?"

"I… haven't been to see her yet." Capell admitted. Edward sobered and he released his friend slowly.

"She doesn't know you're here?" The red-eyed man shook his head.

"I…" Capell grimaced and squeezed his eyes shut. "Tell me how long, Ed. Was – was it really two years?"

So that was it. Edward sighed, his expression melted into one of understanding.

"You heard." It was as much a confirmation as if he had come out and said yes.

"The passengers on the ship from Kolton," Capell explained, "they were talking about the second anniversary of… of my loss. That the ceremony for it had been… geeze, Ed, did you guys really have to tell people that I died?"

"We never told anyone that you died," Edward defended, "but when we came back without you we had to tell the people what had happened. They needed to know why you were gone, and why the lunaglyphs and Aristos were fading. The general consensus was that you weren't coming back. The people decided to honor you. And Sigmund, of course." The king's eyes darkened with worry but his friend didn't notice.

Capell clutched his head in one hand and spun away, trying to piece together Edward's words in his head. Two years… and what happened to the Aristos?

"I'm back to not having a clue," he mumbled miserably. When this new life had started for him he hadn't even known Sigmund's name. Now after two years it was all foreign to him all over again.

"We'll catch you up," Edward promised; the offhandedness of the remark made it sound like it would be easy. "Capell," He added a little more gently, "nothing has changed, just so you know." The Liberator shook his head.

"Is that so, Your Majesty?" Capell asked pointedly but Edward placed a firm hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Not as far as you're concerned. Not with the people who care about you." That helped and Capell felt his nerves settle slightly.

"Thanks Ed."

"Now," the faint smile returned to the young king's face, "before you land us both in the hot water, I think you should go see Aya. You know the rule – you tell _her_ first."

"Then the others." Capell finished with a small smile of his own. If nothing had changed as Edward promised, Capell was going to catch hell for breaking that rule again.

But if Edward was right, it would be worth it.

Capell turned but felt his shoulder caught up once more in that vise-like grip.

"Capell," the deep voice had that quiet quality that came on only when Edward spoke from the heart, "you have no idea how good it is to see you're back. Get Aya and come back quickly. I want to know everything; there's a lot of catching up that we need to do." A final nod and Capell left the castle and the city, hoping that Ed was right.

XXXX

Aya was tired. Dominica said it, everyone else saw it, but that didn't mean Aya had the right to slow down. At least not in her opinion. She had to be doing something right now. Anything – as long as it was productive. Sapran needed this renovation. A lot was going to be required of Fayel before its debt to the town was cleared. It wasn't until she realized her drive was taking Gina and the others down with her that she was forced to finally give in and take a break.

Plus working kept her mind busy. The less she was allowed to daydream the better. Her thoughts always trailed to what she had lost, though she knew that other matters should be far more pressing at the moment. But her admission on the moon had been partially right – saving the world just wasn't as important to her as it used to be. She kept at it, though, because the losses they had suffered would be meaningless otherwise.

It had taken weeks of conscious effort to break her habit of staring non-stop at the moon. As if she would be able to see him there. It was laughable. But just _knowing_ where he was – seeing the prison that held him and knowing that this time she couldn't break him out – it gnawed at her and had frequently driven her into tears. Dominica had finally come out and, in her typical brash way, asked Aya why Capell had sacrificed his freedom for the woman he loved if she was just going to waste her life locked away in her rooms crying.

It hadn't erased the pain, but it had gotten her moving again.

Now, raising her arms high above her head in a bone-popping stretch, her eyes found their way back to that familiar site. The moon was much smaller in the sky than it used to be. Capell had done his job well.

_Are you still up there? Can you see us down here? This is all because of you, Capell. We're alive because of you._

She refused to take any of the credit for the mission's success. She had not made the tremendous sacrifices others had given. Aya sighed and pulled her eyes form the moon before the sadness and darker thoughts could overtake her again.

It was nice to see children playing in Sapran again, she decided while watching a small group of boys play at the base of the hill in the distance. It reminded her that the world was still a good place, with good people who deserved a chance at a happy life. She even smiled in earnest at the sight. So few things were able to bring a true smile to her face lately; though she had perfected the art of the fake smile months ago.

And then Aya stopped breathing entirely. Two children were reaching up to a man in the distance. She could hear the faint sounds of their laughter and shouts mixed with something else.

The music of a flute.

She could live a thousand lifetimes and never forget the songs he had written – or their ridiculous names. He had played them for her whenever she had asked, or whenever he thought she needed to hear one.

She didn't hear herself whisper his name; didn't feel the hot tears on her cheeks.

And she didn't know she was running – not until she felt her arms fling out wide and heard the sound of her own voice crying out his name.

He turned, crimson eyes lighting up brightly as he accepted the weight of her body as it crashed into him full force. Her name on his lips was the sweetest sound she had ever heard. Those same lips found her forehead and she pulled his head down to drink greedily of his kiss. It was like taking that first breath of air after being under water just a little too long; hard, desperate, a little painful and something she had craved more than anything for too long. He groaned deep in his throat and his arms tightened around her. It was impossible for them to get too close, to hold each other too tightly.

It was a dream – it had to be! But she was determined to not wake up from this one – it was the most vivid dream yet. He tasted like Burguss Apples, as he had the first time they had kissed. His chest was firm against hers, his arms solid as they pulled her tightly to him. His breath on her face was warm and gentle. He was her paradise.

"I'm glad to see you too, Aya," he said at last with that guilty tone he often adopted when he apologized. He might as well have just said he was sorry then. "I made you a promise when you left, that I would come back. I didn't lie this time."

That's right – she had called him a liar the last time she had seen him, she remembered with a plunging feeling in her stomach. She had become so hysterical that Capell had actually slapped her. And worse, her last words to him had been her refusal to ever forgive him. No vows of endearment, no promise to see him again, only petty refusal to allow him to do what was in his heart.

No, the last time they had set eyes on each other had not gone well at all.

"Oh Capell, I'm so sorry!" She blurted. "I never meant to say those awful things."

"Yes you did," he smiled down at her, "you always mean everything you say. That's why I never have to worry about what you're thinking; you'll tell me if it's in your head. And even though I didn't lie out loud, I didn't correct everyone when they thought I was coming. I guess that does make me a liar."

"But you came back!" Aya crushed herself against his chest once more, afraid that by admitting he was back he would vanish into a puff of smoke. "You're really, really here, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I came back."

The boys at his side were whispering, pointing. Capell? _Lord_ Capell – the Liberator?! The boy in light blue broke away, running for the village, shouting at the top of his lungs for his mother that Lord Capell was back. That he was kissing Emir Aya – so it had to be him!

Aya didn't hear the boy. She didn't see him run off. She only knew of the man in her arms; only heard his soft murmurs in her ear.

Sweet promises to stay with her for as long as she'd have him; to be hers and only hers for the rest of their lives if she'd allow it.

And at that moment Aya wished for nothing more than their immortality.

XXXX

Eugene stepped out of the coach, stopping himself from holding out a hand for Komachi – the Nightwhisper member would not have appreciated the gesture the way other women would. Edward strode down the path, grasping his friend's hand in greeting. Eugene beamed.

"Where is he?" The lack of proper greeting was not given a second thought. Edward understood their excitement completely.

"Fayel," the king replied, nodding to Komachi as well, "he left about a week ago to get Aya. I received a messenger pigeon yesterday – he'll be bringing her back here tomorrow."

"Back? He came here first?" The Prime Minister's question was met with a mischievous smile from the usually solemn man.

"Nerves," Edward answered. "My guess is these past few days were spent paying for making her wait." Komachi's cheeks reddened, though she kept her silence. Eugene chuckled both at the warrior woman's shy reaction and at Capell's 'distressful' situation.

"In that case, who are we to argue at being made to wait as well?"

Edward led his friends into the castle. "Vic is inside, Kiriya just returned from his trip yesterday. Genma stayed behind?" Komachi nodded.

"With my master, The Starseer and Her Excellency." Though no one would dare disturb the sleeping Aristos, Komachi had fretted so much about leaving Touma behind that Genma had agreed to remain in Halgita with them more for her sake than theirs. "He relays his warmest greetings to you and his sincere joy to Lord Capell at his return."

"Likewise," Edward waited as the guards opened the massive portal to the castle. "Balbagon and the kids are on their way back from guard duty in Cassandra – they picked Michelle up along the way, I guess."

"What was Michelle doing in Cassandra?" Eugene mused, but Edward only cocked an eyebrow and shrugged. "From the sound of Rico's message, I'd say getting into trouble." Eugene signed, familiar with the concept.

Edward's attendant rushed forward when the king entered – intent on taking charge of the guests and relieving Edward of hosting duties – until Edward brushed the man off. "The day I'm too busy for the Prime Minister of Halgita and the head of the Nightwhisperers is the day Burguss loses this king. If their rooms are ready then you're dismissed."

The drawing room had been prepared with tea and meat rolls, a friendly fire crackling in the fireplace. Vic was already at the finger food but gladly set it aside to greet old friends when they entered. Kiriya was standing at the windows, not really socially interactive, but a part of the group none the less. Yet once the greetings were complete his first words were the ones that had been deliberately avoided since Capell's return was discovered.

"So, how – and more to the point, when – are we going to tell him?"

"He already knows how long he's been gone." Vic answered absently, "he heard that on the ship from Kolton."

"That's not what I meant." The air in the room turned icy despite the fire on the hearth and the mild weather outside.

"Kiriya," Edward's warning growl was no longer to be taken lightly, "you will let him enjoy his homecoming first. Do you understand? Do not ruin this for him. We will tell him when the time is right."

"He's no fool, even if he does play the part." The fair-haired man pointed out. "How long do you think you can hide the truth from him? And what do you think his reaction will be if he finds out on his own?" Eugene shut his eyes and turned his head, Edward cursing softly through clenched teeth.

"He won't find out on his own," Vic spoke up in a way that made the kid not so child-like anymore, "he's never gonna be on his own. Not anymore. He's got us, and he always will."

"Well said, Vic," Eugene said softly. And though Edward knew Vic was right, Kiriya's words still hung in the air.

How long _could_ they hide the truth from him?

And did they have any right to even try?

XXXX

**A/N – I really need to thank metal-mako-dragon and the muse of which I borrowed (he-hee) for the sudden ability to write this story. There are so few I.U. stories out there and I hope this one helps to propagate the species. ;o) There were a few things in the game that were left a little too open in my opinion – so I've decided to fill in the gaps with my own ideas. Perhaps someone else will have a different idea and will write a story of their own. ;o)**

**Please let me know what you think – the next installment to come soon!**


	2. The Problem With A Secret Is

**For those who agree with me that a little more than tongue fencing took place in the Pieria Marshlands. *Wink-wink, nudge-nudge.* Thanks for coming back for more! Hope this goes well! LOL!**

Chapter 2. The Problem With A Secret Is…

She awoke in a mess of tangled sheets and tousled hair. Her nightclothes were lost somewhere on the floor. The pillow beside hers was empty once more, but it did not frighten her as it had the first morning after his return. He was an early riser – a trait he had picked up after the first few weeks in Sigmund's armor. She remembered the days of having to physically drag him from his bed; back when he was constantly seeking any excuse to leave the group. It seemed like another lifetime.

How different he was now – and yet he really hadn't changed at all, she thought. Maybe all that had really changed in the end was the group's opinion of him – and his opinion of himself.

Aya stretched languidly atop the soft mattress and sighed, noticing the shadow against the window at last. Capell leaned casually against the large window's frame, staring out to the desert beyond. At her sigh his head turned to her and she was captivated by him once more.

She had always thought him handsome in the armor – though she had never possessed those thoughts about Sigmund, and the two were identical in appearance. Perhaps it was the way Capell wore the armor, with a smile and a bounce to his step that made him less fearsome and more approachable than his father. But now, seeing him stand in the early morning sunlight wearing nothing but a pair of thin sleeping trousers and a smile, she decided he was more than handsome. He was glorious.

"I gave it a name." He revealed and she quirked a smile at him, a laugh rumbling low and quiet in her chest. She didn't know how, but she knew exactly what he was talking about. She flipped over on her stomach, facing him.

"I don't want to know."

"Are you sure? I'm actually proud of this one." That piqued her interest – had he named the other songs out of pure mischief? She wouldn't have put it passed him. "You want to take a guess first?"

"Not really."

"Try."

She sighed and arched an eyebrow at him. When he reflected her expression back at her she smiled in amusement.

"The cowardly bear?"

"Is that a crack at Gustav?" Capell dodged her pillow as it sailed past his head and wondered aloud how her marksman skills had gotten so bad. She tried again.

"Fish's Forte?"

"Hey – you're using musical terms. Very good! But still wrong."

"Forget it." And Capell shook his head.

"Quitter. Should I tell you then?"

Aya moaned and almost buried her face in the sheets. "I shouldn't be asking…"

Capell leaned his head back against the frame and peered beyond the glass once more. He was quiet for a moment and Aya wondered if maybe she should have kept playing. "I named it the moment I knew it would work," he announced at last and pulled the intricate flute from the sill behind him, fingering the instrument reverently; "the moment I knew what it would do for me."

"Capell?" His eyes rose to her and he smiled softly, calming her nerves again.

"I call it 'Aya's Smile'."

It wasn't exactly a name given to a masterpiece, but it touched her in a way she didn't think possible. He had named the song that had brought him home after her. He had thought of her while up there – thought of her enough to name the most important composition of his life after her. She had never even heard its notes and yet already she knew it was her favorite song of all time – even more than 'The Slovenly Serenade'.

"May I hear it?"

A knock at the door was immediately followed by Gina entering the room uninvited.

"Good morning Majesty! I'm afraid I must tell you that Lord Cap – _Oh My Word_! Put some clothes on, would you? I swear-"

"Gina," Aya growled – the pretty maid had absolutely no restraint with her tongue. "Maybe you should wait to be invited from now on."

"Yes of course," Gina bowed so low her face was no longer visible, and only stood when she had turned completely around. "I'm sorry – I had no idea you two were-"

"Careful now," Capell cut her off before she could get herself into more trouble, yet the warning was friendlier than Aya's.

"That you were so close." Gina finished in her nervous twitter after a brief pause. "I'm sorry, Majesty, it appears Lord Capell is not missing from his rooms after all. I'll go inform Dominica that he's… been found. Yes. Dominica wanted to let you both know that the caravan is ready. She suggests you leave soon. I suggest-"

"Thank you Gina," Aya said by way of a dismissal and the maid attempted an awkward bow without turning to face the pair before leaving. Capell smiled playfully at the woman on the bed.

"We should go, the Dominica I knew would have had no problems coming in here to drag us out as-is." Aya smiled.

"And she still won't." She confirmed and rose quickly, slipping into her laundered travel clothes and picking up her bow and quiver. Capell donned his old clothes once more, though in truth he was beginning to miss the armor. It was like cladding himself in a gift from Sigmund; like physically wearing his father's protection. Soon enough he promised himself and slid the oversized bundle onto his shoulders once more.

XXXX

"How long do you think it will take for the things within to break out in force?" Kiriya's question was in no way passionate, though the ire in his voice was clear. "It won't be long – the attacks are becoming more frequent. And what about –"

"Silence!" Edward's booming voice was magnified by the thunder of his fist on hardwood – Rucha and Vic jumped in their seats. The party from Cassandra had arrived only a few hours earlier – just in time for Capell's return which was going to be later that afternoon. Yet Kiriya was not one for sentiment or subtlety and had been pressing his argument upon the crowd without mercy since morning. "How often do you have to be warned to watch your tongue on this subject? Do you have any idea what would happen if this information got out? We can't risk that Kiriya – you know this!"

"Exactly my point." The pale man turned his nose up in haughty disdain. "Which is why you need to put off plans for this party and tell him the situation the moment he arrives. A stop has to be put to this immediately. None but Capell will be able to handle him – _you know this_." The mockery of Edward's argument was not lost on the king, but he ground his teeth together in an extreme effort of self restraint.

"We've all known this," Eugene's diplomacy was a welcomed interruption, "we knew it even before Capell returned – and now that he is back I admit I have hope again. But his homecoming should not be only for this. He should be allowed some joy in his return before we ask him to pick up the sword once more – especially for this."

"Who will do it, then?" Michelle's velvet voice was timid and sad. "Which one of us will tell him?"

The silence was thick in the air, but only for a moment.

"I will," Edward volunteered. "I think… he'll take it best from me."

No one tried to argue. It was not a task that anyone wanted.

XXXX

It was perhaps the tightest she had ever held him – even more than their first meeting in this exact spot years back. Only this time the feeling of her body against his did nothing to excite him. Man, Aya sure had her grip on his heart, he thought with some amusement.

"I've missed you, too, Michelle." He chuckled and returned the embrace freely. When she started bouncing on the balls of her feet while hugging him, however, he thought it best to end the contact. He was still a man, after all.

"Hey guys!" Capell turned and smiled down at the summoner and beastmaster happily. "Look at how huge you are!"

"Capell!" Rucha's girly squeal was followed by the little girl leaping up into his arms. Rico hung back for a second shuffling his feet uncertainly. Capell understood – so the boy was still in that phase, huh? "Men can hug too, if they're really good friends, Rico." The boy's face split into a wide grin and he followed his sister's example forcing Capell to take a twin under each arm.

Eugene had explained Kristopher's absence, and Capell confirmed that Aya had already told him of the Aristos. Her own mother still slept in Fayel and Aya had explained what was happening – that they were still alive and well, only sleeping. How long that sleep would last was a mystery, but their health was good and after only two years a small handful of the youngest Aristos were already beginning to wake up. It seemed the length of their sleep depended on their power and true age.

Eugene speculated that out of their friends Touma would be the first to wake. Empress Svala would probably be the last. With the knowledge that some of the lower ranked Aristos were waking, and Aya and Komachi's confidence that their loved ones would soon awaken as well, Capell was able to relax and enjoy himself once more.

Dinner had been served in the great dining hall, Capell embarrassing his more composed friends when he had joined Rico and Rucha in their short-lived food fight. But the light in his eyes and the laughter in the room had kept the scolding to a few shaking heads and firm words delivered through amused smiles. Capell had relayed to everyone through the meal the events of his time on the moon. Of living off of the squirrel-mice and finding the teleporter. And then of the task of writing 'Aya's Smile'. And once the story had been told he realized just how stagnant his life had been up there – and how long two years could feel when it was spent alone.

When the last of the food was cleared from the table the party moved to the drawing room for refreshments and a little relaxed conversation. Capell was glad that they had not thrown a large gala in his honor – he much preferred just being able to sit with his friends and catch up. They spoke of their past adventure, of their current lives and plans for the future. It was briefly asked if Capell would like to take up the throne of Cassandra and he promised that he would give it serious thought after tonight. With that the subject was quickly dropped – this was a time for friends, not politics after all.

Towards the end of the night the twins were beginning to nod off beside Michelle. A few stifled yawns and some began to talk about retiring for the evening.

Kiriya looked pointedly at the king of Burguss. Edward's mouth tightened in a thin line and the look he shot back to the pale man was clear.

_No._

Capell's next words dropped Edward's stomach into his boots.

"What's going on, you two?"

The last of the conversation went silent, Capell and Aya peering at Edward and Kiriya quizzically, the others averting their eyes, trying to avoid being called into the situation.

"Nothing. Just a little tension left over from an argument earlier today." Edward replied a bit too curtly. He reached for his wine as if hoping the subject would drop without another word.

"But a very important argument, wouldn't you agree? Something that should not be put off any longer?" Kiriya was baiting him and Capell. "Especially when lives are at stake?"

"Lives?" Capell startled a bit and cast an anxious glance at his friends. Beside him Aya went rigid.

"Don't do this, Kiriya," she said sharply, "not now."

"When would be better, Emir? When more have died while we were celebrating?"

"_Not now_!" Aya was on her feet, fists balled and nearly shaking with rage.

"Guys!" Capell was standing as well, his hands on Aya's shoulders. "Would someone please tell me what is going on here?" Edward slumped in his seat, wiping a hand over his face.

"It's too late, Aya," he muttered, "we have to."

"No," she whispered, "not yet. I – _we_ – just got him back. Not yet, please."

"Have to what?" Capell's eyes were widening in worry. "I know I'm not the leader anymore and you don't have to tell-"

"You are our leader, Capell." Eugene interrupted. "We may lead nations now, but you will always lead us. You've already proven you're the one best suited for the task."

"Please Capell," Aya clutched his hands in hers and peered up into his eyes. "One more night. Please give me one more night before we have to tell you."

"Do you think he'll have a moment's peace waiting to hear what we have to say?" Aya whirled.

"Shut up Kiriya! This is your fault! Why did you have to start this? Why couldn't you give us one more happy night together?"

"Because the world may not have one more night!" Kiriya bit back and Capell was so jarred by the statement that he landed roughly back onto the long couch.

"Tell me," he was able to say at last. "What's happened?" Aya sank down beside him once more, clutching his hand in hers. Edward sighed. He had volunteered to be the one to tell Capell. It seemed he did not get to choose when.

"A few months after we left the moon," Edward began, his words seeming to drain the vitality from everyone who knew his story, "a dormant teleporter in Kolton reactivated. No one knew it at first. It's located in the castle, and Kolton law allows only those with official business to enter the castle. It is because of this and very rigid precautions that the teleporter is still known only to Kolton officials and us.

"When the teleporter reactivated the new king sent a squad of guards through to see where it led." Edward's jaw flexed spasmodically. "When they didn't come back he sent an entire company of elite soldiers through.

"Only two men came back."

Capell's face melted in shock. Edward did not look at his friend. He kept his eyes down and continued on.

"They came back with a story of a place beyond the gate that was our world and yet not. Graad Prison, the Oradian Dunes, Vesplume Tower, they were beyond the gate but they were not really the places they appeared to be. Their skies were different, the sunlight strange, and the beasts beyond were more powerful than anything in our world. Most of the elites died in the False Oradian Dunes. The survivors happened upon a teleporter between the paths to Fayel and Port Zala…"

"No Ed," Aya whispered miserably, but Capell placed a restraining hand over hers.

"Tell me."

"On the other side of that teleporter they claimed to have found a False Vesplume Tower and… Lord Sigmund." There was no pleasure in his friend's revelation. Capell waited, certain that this was not the joyous news it should have been. Common sense told him not to hope.

"The man they encountered… killed most of the soldiers, Capell." Edward gritted out. "They said he was saying things that made no sense to the soldiers. He said that they would not be enough to stop 'her'. That 'she' was coming and if 'she' found them 'she' would make them worse than monsters. He said he couldn't allow that. So… so he started killing them."

"Sigmund wouldn't…" Capell whispered.

"Do you think we just believed this story when the surviving men came back with it?" Edward demanded hotly and Capell startle at the ferocity of his friend's reaction. "Do you think any of us who knew him would think Lord Sigmund capable of such an act? After he spent his life defending the people of this world?" Edward was shaking now, and Eugene knew it was becoming too much for the loyal man to speak on this topic.

"We went in, Capell," The Prime Minister picked up the story to spare the dark man. "Kolton's king told Aya, Edward and myself the teleporter's secret in the hopes we could unravel the mystery, as Lord Sigmund was involved. We gathered the Force and we went in ourselves.

"We followed the soldiers' directions to the False Vesplume Tower." Eugene shook his head as though trying to deny the truth before he even spoke it. "He was there, Capell. When he saw it was us he became furious. You've never seen Sigmund furious, have you?" They heard Rucha whimpered – it was clear she had seen it. "He demanded to know what we thought we were doing – that we were smarter than this. He said he would not let 'her' have us. He would not let us be used – no matter what – that he would save us from something worse than death. He attacked us Capell. He came at us with everything. It took all of our resources to get out of there alive. Balbagon was almost lost giving us cover to get the kids out. We were no match for him – not that any of us ever were."

"The castle's corridor to the teleporter was made off limits." He went on. "But a few months later a Tiger Rachnuvus appeared in the castle – one stronger than anyone had ever seen. It was slain, but another few weeks passed and a larva of similar strength appeared. After that a Quetzalcoatl. More have come since. The castle has been locked down to any but those who absolutely must enter. The royal family has secretly moved out."

"Both arachnids could be found in the False Graad Prison," Kiriya spoke up, "the first place you come across when entering the forbidden teleporter. The avian in the False Oradian Dunes – the second place you come to. The things are getting out, Capell. If beasts are finding their way out, what is to stop Sigmund? Or this 'she' figure that he was constantly going on about? One spider was enough to take down three well armed soldiers – the flyer took down five. What do you think a half-crazed dead Liberator will do if he gets out?"

XXXX

She strode quickly up and down the wide corridors of Castle Burgusstadt, pausing long enough to throw open every door she passed and peer inside. Startled faces peered back at her from the rooms, and a few angry shouts followed her as she moved on.

"Aya. Aya!" Eugene trotted up to her to keep pace, "let him be. He needs time!"

"Do you remember the last time he had 'time' to think on his own?" She demanded angrily, tears still glistening in her eyes. "He nearly turned against us. I can't let that happen again. He needs to know we're here for him."

"He does, Aya," Eugene grabbed up her wrist and dug his heals down to stop her from taking another step. Aya's fists clenched and she turned on him, but did not strike out. "He knows we're here. And in a few hours if he does not come to us yes, I think we should go find him. But we've had over a year to come to terms with the truth. At least give him a few hours."

She didn't know if she could wait a few hours. It was hard enough being separated from him now that he was back – in the days since they're reunion he had never left her side for more than a moment – and only when necessary.

But being separated now was entirely different from a latrine trip. He had left her without a smile, without a promise to come right back. He hadn't become angry like he had when they lost Faina and Leif, or distant either. He had begun to mutter half denials – of what she could not say – and had left the room as quickly as if he were fleeing again. His eyes had been glassy and she knew that it was not beneath him to cry. She could not take the thought of Capell off somewhere, weeping on his own.

Not her Capell. He was never supposed to feel pain again.

She could have killed Kiriya.

"Don't take this out of Kiriya," - how did Eugene always know what the others were thinking? "Capell had to find out eventually and I can't imagine he would have reacted any better if we had waited. To be honest it may have been worse. He might have resented this secret being kept from him."

"Capell doesn't resent anyone." Aya bit back. "Not me for dragging him into the war. Not Edward for treating him so badly for so long. Not even his father for giving him up as a baby."

"True," Eugene murmured, "but keeping this from him could still have hurt him. I'm not saying that Kiriya acted in the right – he could absolutely have used more tact. I am saying, though, that what's done is done and now we have to make the best of it." He gave her arm a gentle squeeze before releasing her and turning back towards the drawing room. "Now let's go back and wait. If in a couple of hours he does not return we'll all go and find him together."

Aya nodded woodenly and followed the former priest like a runaway child being led back home.

XXXX

He couldn't be with them right now. He couldn't bear their looks, their words.

Sigmund would never kill innocent men. He would absolutely never try to kill his comrades! _Never!_ How could this be happening?

Capell knew it was not easy to pretend to be the imposing man. The people who had known him so well would have known if it was an imposter immediately. Capell could not convince himself it was not Sigmund the team had encountered. They would have told him if they had even suspected it.

But they hadn't. And Eugene had said Sigmund felt he was saving them from something worse than death. Capell knew the former Liberator was capable of making hard decisions for the greater good. But could he really kill those he loved? Even if it was to protect them from a fate worse than death – wouldn't he try to save them first? Protect what you hold most dear with your life. That was the law he lived by. To kill those he loved as a form of salvation? It made no sense!

His face was still burning from the tears he wept. He had been up on the moon this entire time, believing his father was looking out for him, guiding him, and all the while the man had been in some other realm trying to slay his friends. It broke his heart to think his father was not in the paradise he had envisioned before. That he was -

And a crystal clear thought broke within his mind – putting an end to the misery of how the father he and the world admired so would be capable of murder. He'd been so preoccupied with the thought of what his father was doing that a very crucial fact had gone unobserved.

Sigmund had been in that place.

They never had a body to bury – that fateful day at Vesplume Tower. Sigmund had just vanished. Did they mistakenly assume he was dead, like the world had assumed of Capell? Did he simply go from one Vesplume Tower to another?

Leonid! Leonid had lived! The Dreadknight had disappeared in the same flash of light, but had not died in it as they had first thought.

Capell's heart flipped within his chest. It was true – _it had to be!_

Sigmund was alive!

XXXX

**A/N**

**So I read the first chapter and although my personal rule is to try to leave off on a cliffhanger, I realized Chapter 1's cliffhanger wasn't as grand as I had imagined. So I did THIS and in record time, too. Don't expect me to be able to whip out chapters this quickly in the future. It's the weekend and I actually had *gasp* FREE TIME!**

**Let me know what you think. Thanks!**


	3. The Million Fol Questions

**I've come to realize that even though the story of I.U. wasn't as in depth as it could have been, the reason I like it so much is because it leaves room for ideas and theories. It didn't dead-end the things that were never explained thoroughly; it just left those areas open, maybe to be filled in by fanfics later? Maybe for a sequel? Hmm… **

Chapter 3: The Million Fol Questions

She knew he was there even before she could see him. The castle roof felt much like the balcony of her home, a place she had adopted as her sanctuary and later shared with him. This place had that same feeling of quiet; hidden away in plain sight. When she rounded the corner it came as no surprise to see him there, leaning against the balustrade looking out over the city. Only this time his flute did not reside in those artistic fingers.

"I was wondering how long it would take," he said quietly without turning to see who had intruded on his solitude. "Are the others looking for me, too?" Aya joined him at the railing, leaning on her arms to watch him as he watched the darkened horizon. His face had the washed out look of someone who had just cried themselves out, yet he was seemingly unruffled.

"Yeah. Edward thinks you might have left to go after Sigmund yourself. Eugene doesn't think you're that reckless. They've split up to search the castle and check with the city gates."

"And all they had to do was follow you." He said softly and Aya thought she heard humor in that statement. Or maybe she hoped she heard it.

"I wanted to find you first," she admitted, "to make sure…" Soft eyes turned on her in the moonlight.

"I'm fine," he assured, "really. I just… needed time to sort out my thoughts and make some choices… about my future. I needed to know what I wanted before I came to you." Aya nodded slowly and turned her attention to the road bellow, empty and quiet.

"We're going in after him, aren't we?" Capell's eyes widened at the defeat in her tone and he straightened.

"You don't want to save him?"

Aya's face screwed up. "No! I mean yes - of course I do! Lord Sigmund is more than just a hero to me. I would do anything to save him! I just," she shook her head; "I lost you for two years. I wanted to get that time back, to reclaim the peaceful time we lost together. Only now I know that we can't get that time back. Those two years are gone forever."

Capell returned his gaze to the dark skies in the distance.

"We've lost a lot more than just time." He said and she began to feel small for her selfishness until he reached over and gave her fingers a soft squeeze. Folding his arms beneath him once more, Capell turned his attention back to the horizon and Aya was content to sit in silence with him for a while.

"I'm leaving in the morning," he said at last, "with anyone who wants to come. If you come, Aya, I need to you listen to me when I issue an order. You have to hang back if I tell you to, and run if I say run. Can you do that?"

She took a long, deep breath. Aya knew why he was giving her this warning. He had to know that she wouldn't try to interfere like she had on the moon. Capell knew she would fight to defend him no matter what, even if that went against his plans. Though the words aggravated her, she managed to voice her compliance, and again when he looked at her from the corner of his eye. Satisfied, he returned his attention to the distance.

"When we get Sigmund back," he said after another long stretch of silence; slowly and with a great deal of thought, "if he can't or won't take up the throne of Cassandra again, I'm going to." Aya turned to him, a slight smile on her lips.

"I thought you would," she admitted. Though he had started off running from everything, now Capell took on every duty that fell on his shoulders, and he did so without so much as a reluctant word.

"Only there is one problem that I can't seem to work out," he admitted with a slight frown. "How will you and I be able to rule two countries at once when we're married?" He delivered the question as simply as though they had spoken of it often in the past.

Aya could only stare at him for the longest time. He continued to watch the nighttime horizon silently during that interval, as if he never expected her to respond. Finally he lowered his head; his eyes trained on his arms, and spoke quietly.

"Are you going to say you'll marry me, or should I start laughing and tell you I was only kidding?"

"…Were you?"

Capell didn't move. "No." Aya felt herself lift from the dark cloud that had been hovering ever since Kiriya had broken their peace. Any worry she had held for Capell's state of mind vanished. She turned back to the view as well.

"Maybe if you ask the right question, I'll answer you." Capell's lips quirked in an amused smile, the wrinkle leaving his brow. He straightened and took her into his arms.

"Marry me, Aya?" She smiled back.

"As you wish, Lord Capell." She answered playfully before giving him the answer he had truly wanted.

XXXX

The ship from Port Zala to Kolton arrived in good time five days later, with no small amount of hastening from the captain when he realized the rulers of three nations had boarded his ship and one man who bore too much resemblance to the lost Liberators to be a coincidence. Aya and Capell had decided that now was not the time to share their decision to marry. That could come later, when things had calmed down and they could have real time to celebrate.

Once safely within the gates of the city, Eugene led the group to the lavish home of a prominent noble. Within that home, however, the King of Kolton and his family resided in secret, the noble family who owned the residence having gone on an extended 'vacation' to accommodate the royal family's stay.

"Ah, Prime Minister," Kolton's new king took Eugene's hand in a greeting that was more relieved than happy. "It is good to see you once more. Honored Emir, Your Majesty," he nodded to Aya and Edward in turn before acknowledging the rest of the party where his eyes came to rest on the Liberator, clad in the unmistakable armor and Emblazoned Sword. "Oh… oh my word…"

"Lord Capell," Eugene assured with a small smile, "has managed to successfully escape the moon and return to us."

"Honored Majesty, I have come here to retrieve my father from the forbidden teleporter." The Liberator announced without looking to his colleagues for their advice. This was not an issue where he would tread lightly. "I intend on curing his madness. Kiriya the healer is already awaiting our return."

"You will be bringing Lord Sigmund back into this world?" The king's expression became wary.

"I have already opened my castle to the treatment of Lord Sigmund." Eugene replied. "We would never dream of asking to keep him here. This land has experienced enough disturbances already."

"Yes, thank you for your consideration. However I cannot imagine that any good will come from bringing Lord Sigmund through to this world once more. He may have been a great hero and a pivotal part in our world's survival, but he has killed many men recently for no apparent reason. I do not know that it is wise to bring such a man back. I fear for your safety, honored guests, and would be most distressed if my men could not protect you properly."

Capell bristled at the near refusal they received from this man – this person who had probably never lifted a hand in defense of anyone once in his life – saw fit to pass judgment on their combat skills? After they had defeated the false god? Capell remembered the new king as the one who had stood beside King Miro when the Aristo had held the position. This man had been the most outspoken person against Capell when he had been discovered as an imposter. Though he felt his temper flare the Liberator kept his face placid and his voice steady.

"Majesty, I did not come here to ask for support," Capell tried to sound reassuring. "My men and I can handle the situation ourselves; we are no strangers to battle, remember, and are familiar with Lord Sigmund and his strengths. Rest assured we will succeed. However I must point out with all due respect to Your Majesty that I did not come here for permission either." At this he steeled his gaze slightly. "Cassandra has been reclaimed, and as her restored king I will not abandon my father – the former king – to madness. Our intent is to retrieve Lord Sigmund and to leave your land in peace. If your kingdom will require aid with the teleporter after we bring back Lord Sigmund, Cassandra and the Liberation Force will be honored to assist." He hoped the king saw the ultimatum in his promise. Without Sigmund's return, Capell was not coming back – and neither were the other monarchs. At least, not until the king was willing to reconsider.

Kolton's ruler appraised the room carefully for a moment, his chest puffed out in self-importance. Three rulers stood with the King of Cassandra and none among them argued his claim or his statement. It was one thing to deny the Liberator access to the teleporter to save a comrade. It was something else entirely to deny a king the right to save his father. Wars had been started for less.

Miro's successor smiled after a moment.

"Of course, honored King of Cassandra. May you and your men return safely and in success."

XXXX

The time spent as The Liberator had obviously taught him political protocol, Aya thought as she watched Capell lead them through the castle without the slightest trace of trepidation. He had spoken like a true king – like a man who knew he held the upper hand, though he never came out directly and said it. She had actually concentrated on not smiling when Capell put the wily king in his place. Vic had not been quite as self-contained and had let the beginnings of a chuckle slip out before Aya reached back and swatted the thief – discreetly of course. She watched Capell's back before her. He carried himself identically to Sigmund – who had always possessed the air of a king himself – even among his 'superiors'.

Aya hoped Lord Sigmund would regain himself to see how far Capell had come.

Without asking anyone if they were ready, Capell stepped up onto the stone platform and activated the teleporter, taking himself and his comrades through to the world beyond.

Aya had always been tolerant of desert heat, but this time she was sweating. The journey through the False Graad Prison and False Oradian Dunes had been difficult, Michelle's skills as a healer had been used quite a few times since they came through the first teleporter, along with Aya and Eugene's elementary skills. The beasts they had fought had been beyond any normal creature he had ever encountered. Capell understood now how one spider had killed three men. They were stronger and more blood thirsty than their cousins in the true Cobasna Timberlands. It had taxed them all to fight their way this far – it was a good thing they carried so many berry powders to rejuvenate themselves. When at last the teleporter that would take them to their true destination came into view Aya could not say if she was relieved or if she would have rather stayed behind with the creatures. Capell gave her no time to debate it, however, and climbed the stone steps immediately.

The blinding flash of the teleporter's magic dissipated and a Vesplume Tower was before them, bathed in a faint red glow, it's bizarre sky telling him that this was not the same tower he had last visited.

An armor clad figure stood where the Crimson Chain still appeared to be attached – another flaw in the recreation – his back turned to them, seemingly relaxed.

"F-father," Capell could not make himself sound firm. He couldn't believe what he was seeing even though he had already accepted that their lost hero was still alive. Sigmund turned, that same cool expression still making his features a perfect mask of composure.

Until his face twisted into a snarl and his fingers curled into tight fists. Capell resisted the shudder that climbed up his spine. Eugene had been right – Sigmund's rage was not something easily witnessed.

"No!" He hissed, moving slowly. "What were you thinking? Do you know what you have done by coming here?"

"I only know that you are here. We've come to take you h-"

"You fool!" Sigmund bellowed and Capell felt the others take a united step back. But somehow, through pure strength of will, Capell remained rooted. "You have given her the perfect weapon – the only beings capable of destroying a god! You have put yourselves right into her hands!"

"I don't understand. Who are you talking about?" Capell asked, trying to pull Sigmund out of his ire through talk. But the original Liberator shook his head wildly an action he would never have made in their home world. The franticness of his movements and speach reminded Capell of Leonid when he had last seen the Dreadnight on the moon; something frightening and no longer human.

If anything had been done to Sigmund to rob him of his humanity…

Capell felt something stir within him. Something unexpected and utterly necessary.

Anger. He did not know at who or what. But anger rushed through his veins and Capell felt all fear drain from his limbs replaced by the tingling need for action.

Sigmund pulled his sword free and Capell echoed with the Emblazoned Sword. The ring of steel shrilled in the strange air. He heard Aya murmur his name from behind.

"I will save you," Capell said to the mirror image that watched him intently, "even if you fight me every step of the way. I swear it."

Something in Sigmund's eyes had changed. He truly did not look like himself any longer. "I must protect the world." He murmured, as though he had never heard Capell speak. "You must die before she finds you. It is the only way to save the world; the only reason she would reclose the Gate. It is the only way to save you from her…"

"Don't follow me," Capell turned briefly to his friends. "and don't catch his attention."

"Capell!" Aya shrieked and the son turned, the Emblazoned Sword rising before him to repel the blow that had been aimed for his skull. Sigmund had moved on him that quickly. Capell dodged to one side and feigned an attack to draw the man's attention away from his friends. Another attack from the young Liberator and Sigmund followed Capell and the siren call of battle.

Grinn Valesti screamed into existence and Capell knew at last the horror of being on the receiving end of the awesome attack. Light and metal hurtled towards him faster than thought and by instinct alone he threw himself aside, feeling the rush of steel and raw power brush past him dangerously close. Close enough to think that he felt the blade against his leg for an instant. Somewhere in the distance Raven Venom was called forth. Aya's powerful attack followed Sigmund and he slid aside with liquid grace, barely missing him.

_What is she doing?!_

"Aya! Stop!" Capell's cry was so desperate she feared at first she had attacked the wrong man, until Capell stood and held a pleading hand out at her. "Keep your promise!" She knew she would regret agreeing to obey him the moment he had asked it of her in Burgusstadt. She knew Capell was not one to hold a grudge, but could she live with herself if she lost his trust? It was the only thing that kept her next arrow nocked and her feet planted. His trust was not something he was comfortable with giving out and she had worked hard to earn her share of it.

Sigmund seemed to dismiss the members of the Force as though they were of no consequence. His focus was solely on his son, standing firm and determined before him. Exactly as Capell wanted.

Metal flashed and the former king moved faster than anything Capell had ever encountered before. Spinning Waltz answered, throwing Sigmund's advancing blade aside and pushing the attacker away with the momentum. Again the elder advanced and again Capell deflected and countered. Steel crashed on steel and armored bodies collided again and again. Blades were moving so quickly that only bright flashes of their trails through the air could be seen.

Sigmund roared and came in for another assault. "She has opened the Seraphic Gate! She knows you exist and she will not rest until you belong to her! I will not allow that to happen!" Reginleif flared and Capell was flung backward, the force of the attack had been enough to render his block useless. Capell sprang to his feet slightly dazed for a moment, but managed to lunge in response with Alfheim.

It was all moving in slow motion for Aya, who could only stand by and watch. The glint of polished armor flashed like small explosions in the strange light. Twin attacks shook the very ground they stood upon while identical men spun and danced over the battlefield too quickly to tell them apart with any certainty. Blood from both men soon began to speckle the stone floor and stained shining blades and armor. Michelle actually called out Levi at one point by sheer reflex, though now it was just a word with no purpose.

Sigmund advanced; the same crushing blow that had almost killed Balbagon previously was this time deflected by a seemingly easy maneuver from Capell. Grinn Valesti was called out against the young hero and struck true this time. Yet after staggering for a brief moment, gripping at the bloodied gash at his shoulder, Capell was able to dismiss the injury and throw himself back into the heat of battle.

They had been right in their assumption it seemed. The only one strong enough to stand against the King of Cassandra was his own flesh and blood.

"This isn't right," Aya could hear Edward growling beside her, "this isn't right…"

"We've gotta do somethin'!" Vic's knives flipped into nimble fingers but Eugene intervened with a restraining hand.

"If you go in there," he said as gently as possible, "you'll only be a distraction to Capell. He asked us to stay back for a reason. He wants to protect us. If we go into that battle he will put himself between us and Sigmund – even if it means his life. I can say that, because he's done it before."

The moon.

"But…"

"Why did he ask us to come if he will not let us fight?" Edward demanded defiantly. "Why come all of this way just to stand here and watch? To be useless!"

"Because he knew we would come anyway," Dominica responded, "even if he told us not to – _especially_ if he told us not to. But also because he needs us. He needs us here in plain sight, so that he remembers why he's raising a sword against his father." Dominica never speculated unless she was certain she was right – and she almost always was.

Capell's voice rang loudly in the air and Levantine Slash was born into the makeshift arena. It was not an attack he had used often – he reserved it only for the most desperate of fights for the amount of harm it could inflict. The raw demonstration of Capell's power sent Sigmund crashing into the balustrade, his unarmored head ricocheting against the stonework sending flecks of rock and mortar flying. Michelle cried out and Balbagon had to lift her under one giant arm to restrain her.

"Capell please stop!" But the son paid no heed to the woman's protest – his sword poised and ready with his next attack. Blood trickled down the inside of his armor, wetting his wrist and fingers that gripped the sword. The shoulder wound must be worse than he thought. This needed to end quickly before he couldn't fight anymore.

The swirling of the sky above began to change. Black fingers mixed in with the rainbow hues, becoming thicker and thicker. Sigmund's eyes rose groggily to the heavens.

"Coming..." he whispered… "she is coming…" He rose on unsteady feet and stumbled towards Capell, sword hefted above his shoulder in an all-too familiar stance. Blood dribbled down from his temple where he had struck the railing. Capell knew this was likely to be his only chance; Sigmund was stunned and would not be able to react quickly.

Capell sidestepped when Sigmund charged, parrying the fierce upsweep of Sigmund's sword and, flipping the blade in his grip as Sigmund passed by him, brought the pommel of the weapon crashing down onto the back of his father's head with all of his might.

The elder melted into a heap of metal and man at his son's feet. Capell waited, blade ready and tense. Yet Sigmund did not move. It seems luck had chosen his side at last. Michelle moaned from her place on the platform, but did not approach.

The Emblazoned sword slipped from Capell's fingers with a ringing clatter and he knelt awkwardly to turn the fallen man onto his back. Sigmund was breathing still, though the welt on the side of his head was visible now through his hair. He would need healing quickly. Retrieving his sword Capell slung the hero up onto his good shoulder awkwardly and turned to the awestruck party.

He was thoroughly depleted, having not fought a true battle – let alone a series of battles – in years. The effort had taxed him to exhaustion. He felt his knees buckle under his father's weight, but hesitated when Balbagon stepped forward to take the fallen man. "I can carry you both if I have to." The enormous man's words were not a threat but an offer and spoken with something that could have been considered deference from the boisterous man. Capell surrendered his charge and raised his eyes. The swirling sky that had struck fear into Sigmund was increasing in activity, the ebony tendrils growing thicker and longer. Capell didn't know what that meant but he wasn't about to take any chances. His eyes continued to lose their focus despite his best efforts. He wouldn't be able to fight anymore today. Soon enough he wouldn't even be able to stand.

"Whatever is coming was enough to frighten Sigmund," he said wearily, "and that's enough for me. We're leaving. Now."

XXXX

He remembered this sensation. Comfort. This was not something he had known in…

Sigmund frowned, the effect bringing a sharp sting to a place just above his brow. He could not grasp the concept of the last time he had lain down. It eluded him, a memory he knew he possessed yet could not uncover.

He opened his eyes and sat up, the thin blanket slid from his chest. This place seemed… familiar. What was this place? One entire wall was a row of thick iron bars, revealing a long corridor on the other side. He was in a prison? It certainly appeared to be so.

Someone was in the cell with him and Sigmund's hand went instinctively to his hip. There was nothing consequential there to meet his fingers. No armor, no sword, nothing but thick cotton sleepwear. The person who had been seated on the rough stone floor stood slowly, watching him through compassionate eyes.

"We had to take your sword and your armor," the man said softly, "just for now. Edward is mending it for you. We'll give it back when you're well."

"Edward…" he tested the name on his tongue, "Edward…" The name seemed familiar – as did the man standing before him, for that matter. A memory broke free of the fog within his mind. "Edward!"

"Yes, Edward. Edward and Aya; Eugene and Michelle; … you remember us, right?"

Sigmund pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes shut tight. It was difficult to concentrate; he felt as though he had been drugged. "I… yes… yes I know you." Serious eyes rose to the young man once more. "I remember you, Capell."

"Do you remember what happened?" Capell did not move closer, though his stance shifted slightly – just enough to betray the fact that he wanted to. "Anything from before?"

"Before?" Sigmund nodded. The fog was dissipating with a bit more ease now. "I remember, though some memories are not as clear as others yet." He reached up and absently touched the heavy bandages swathing his head, his eyes darkening as he recalled flashes of his last battle. Capell's shoulder was also wrapped in the thick, white dressings, though he did not show any sign that the wound beneath bothered him.

"Are you… were you badly injured?" Sigmund's voice was still steady and composed, but something in his expression changed. Capell smiled sheepishly and shrugged with his good shoulder.

"Michelle's a very good healer. In a couple of days we'll both be as good as new." Sigmund frowned.

"You should never have entered the Gate." He said firmly. "You have no idea what could have happened." Capell moved forward and lowered himself on his haunches beside the bed.

"No, I don't," Capell agreed, "though very soon I will. Hopefully with your help, but without it if I have to."

"Be careful your valor does not turn to self destruction," Sigmund cautioned, "for the longest time I could not tell the difference between the two." Capell frowned.

"You once told me to find something to fight for, and to protect it with my life." There was no humor in his expression or tone. "That, father, is exactly what I was doing." Sigmund blinked.

And then he sighed heavily. Suddenly the man looked older, more tired than Capell ever remembered.

"So you know."

Capell nodded, the steel leaving his gaze. "Iskan told me. Empress Svala had told me about your past and what happened after… but it was Iskan who told me who the baby was – who I am." True emotion crossed Sigmund's face; pain. Capell thought at that moment he would have preferred the rage again.

"Perhaps someday I will earn the right to ask for your forgiveness." The elder said quietly. His son shook his head.

"You don't have to earn anything, and you don't have to ask." But Sigmund's face hardened.

"I do; and for more than attacking you in the tower. For giving you up, though I knew in my heart is was wrong. For not telling you the truth once I remembered. For depriving you of a mother in making that terrible decision. There is much I must atone for with you, more than any man should forgive so easily."

Capell regarded his father for a moment. "We can talk about that later, if you want. For now there are questions that need to be answered." He stood and reached down to Sigmund with his good arm. "Are you able to leave this cell safely?" More than Sigmund's safety – the former king knew the true meaning of that question.

With a brisk nod Sigmund took the outstretched hand.

XXXX

Capell did not take him to the royal suite. Instead he traveled down to the residential district, to the very last house on the path. It was Genma's house – Sigmund remembered it from prior trips.

Word spread quickly when the Force had returned with their charge, and folk had been swarming the pathways in an effort to see one of the resurrected heroes. Now the Liberators received startled looks as they passed shops and homes. To see one of these mighty men up close would have been exciting, but to see the pair of them together! Even without their armor, their very presence was invoking awe among the citizenry. Whispers, gasps and even broken crockery followed their wake. Sigmund paid no heed, but was mildly surprised to see that Capell did not flinch under those gazes either. When at last they reached the door to Genma's house Capell let himself and his father in without so much as knocking.

"Lord Sigmund!" Edward was on his feet instantly, but there was something different about his stance. He no longer seemed eager to jump to Sigmund's bidding. He was calmer, more self possessed. Aya, Komachi and Gemna were also in attendance, rising to their feet and making an equal to-do about the new arrival. Sigmund bobbed his head politely and allowed Komachi to show him to a chair.

"Does your shoulder hurt again, Lord Capell?" The subdued guild warrior asked as she showed Capell to a seat of his own. "You are favoring it again, it seems."

"I'm alright, thank you." But Komachi stubbornly shook her head.

"I will go and fetch Michelle. She will know better than anyone if you need care. And she can also tend to Lord Sigmund's dressings." It was the closest Komachi ever came to disobedience, and Capell decided not to squash the slight rebellion. It was actually refreshing. He nodded complacently and watched the woman slip from the room.

"Are you feeling any better, My Lord?" Edward asked the first Liberator, taking a seat at the table. He leaned on the table casually, as though watching a man return from the brink of madness was commonplace now.

"Yes, thank you."

"You'll want to drink this, My Lord," Aya placed a steaming mug of tea with an herbal scent to it before Sigmund, "Michelle said it would help counter the sleeping potion she had to give you."

"I see," that accounted for the trouble gathering his thoughts when he had first awoke. "Thank you."

"You're looking better, too." Edward smiled teasingly and reached over and gave Capell a careful shove of his good shoulder. "Sleeping on the floor did you well, I see." Aya batted the dark man back and placed a tender hand on the assaulted shoulder, a gesture that spoke of more than friendship. Sigmund watched the group with a smooth expression, but Capell seemed to know exactly what he was thinking.

"A lot's changed since you disappeared." He explained.

"So I gather."

"Genma, will you please bring the others here?" Capell turned to the wizened warrior. Genma saluted austerely.

"As My Lord wishes," he replied with no less formality and was gone from the house before anyone had a chance to take another breath. Sigmund turned back to his son to find those sincere eyes were now trained on him with all the seriousness of battle – the others had become graven as well. Sigmund knew the question before it even left Capell's lips.

"I would prefer to wait a while to give you time to recover more, and to tell you everything that has happened since we last saw you, but with the Gate still open I don't believe that's a good idea." His son started with that old apologetic tone that Sigmund remembered.

"While I know that you were not well while we were in the Seraphic Gate, I fully believe that you were not wrong when you said someone was after us. Tell me, father, who is 'she'?"

**So I'm sure you all know the answer to that question. But her whole presence in the game was barely touched upon (Unless you see more when you play on Hard; I don't know that yet) – we got a few hints but nothing really concrete. So I'm going to give her a place in the plot. Idea's in the works. Let's see how it goes. ;o) **


	4. The Ties That Bind

**I've had to increase the rating for this story. I've decided to try my hand at writing my very first lemon. Ohhh, nervous… But you'll never know if you can do it if you never try, right? ;o) Here goes!**

Chapter 4. The Ties That Bind

He was already in bed when she entered their room, the blankets pulled up to his waist, the bare skin of his back only covered by the strip of white bandages he still wore. His eyes were closed, his breathing soft. How he managed to sleep at such a time as this was beyond her.

Not when they now knew what lay ahead of them.

The 'she' Sigmund had been raving about in the Seraphic Gate was more than Capell had feared. Another god of sorts, his father had explained in Genma's house. There was more than one 'god' in the heavens, according to what Sigmund had learned while in the gate, and the queen of the Seraphic Gate was the most powerful of them all – and the most dangerous. Her ambitions stretched beyond creating and ruling a world. She wanted dominion of all worlds; all creatures. And if she had to kill the other gods to accomplish that, so be it. That meant she would need a weapon strong enough to kill a god. Until recently nothing had existed with the power to accomplish this.

Until Capell and the others had slain Veros.

And now the Ethereal Queen's sights were fixated on the mortals who had the ability to kill a god. These petty creatures who had tapped into a strength no deity could possess. She would have them as her weapons, she had decided. She plotted to twist them, as Veros had warped Leonid, and use them to her own ends – whether they wanted it or not.

These terrible things had been laid before Sigmund's mind when she had found him in the world beyond the gate and touched him – believing that he was Capell. She had been intent on taking him at that moment as her weapon, until she realized he was not the one she sought. Casting him aside like so much refuse, her touch on his consciousness had still left him partially mad – a taste of what she had in store for the Force – but had also left him with knowledge of who she was and what she intended.

Sometimes knowledge was the greatest weapon a person could have, Sigmund had murmured sagely.

Aya rested her head against the bedpost, watching Capell's peaceful figure. Michelle had changed his bulkier, more protective wrappings for smaller, less restrictive ones; his wound was healing well she had said and no longer required such heavy dressings. Yet from beneath the white linen Aya still saw the sickly greenish-purple of bruises that made Capell grimace if he moved wrong.

For one who had spent his life running from trouble, Capell took his share of life's punishments with a smile and a shrug; though he could not stand the suffering of others. She wondered briefly if the story of his childhood he had told her in Port Zala really had been true – if he had rethought his decision to tell her, and lied about it being only a story. To keep her from hurting for him. She pushed the thought away quickly – it sickened her.

Aya slid onto the bed beside him, not daring to touch him, or even pull down the blankets to crawl beneath. She did not want to wake him. He needed his rest, but still… she had to be close to him. She needed him. His breath wafted lightly onto her face and she inhaled deeply.

What if she lost him again? What if this time it was forever?

She clenched her jaw tightly and told her inner voice to shut up. She was being weak again. She was –

Aya felt her eyes begin to burn and she squeezed them shut against the sensation.

_What if she lost him again?_

Warm fingers touched her cheek and Aya opened her eyes to find Capell looking at her, concern so deep in his features that she almost did cry at that moment.

"Aya?" His voice was soft and hesitant. She reached up and clutched his fingers tightly.

"Promise me now, Capell," she said hoarsely, "promise me that I won't lose you again. Swear it to me." His brow furrowed and he shifted onto his side to face her, ignoring the blossom of fire in his shoulder. He continued to watch her with that mournful expression and Aya felt her insides go cold. "Swear it to me." She pleaded again.

"And if I break my promise?" He whispered.

"You won't – that's why it's a promise. Please, Capell."

At last he spoke, though it was not what Aya had hoped to hear. "I promise you that I will do everything in my power to bring everyone home safely." She shook her head fervently.

"No – this isn't like last time. You can't make some vague promise of safety that may or may not include you. Swear to me that I won't lose you again. Please!" She already knew it from the look in his eyes; from the way he tried to hold her hand as she squeezed his fingers so tightly his fingertips were turning purple.

He wasn't going to make that promise.

Because he knew there was a chance he could not keep it.

She released her grip on his hand to press fingers to her face and he immediately pulled her tightly to him.

"I'm not making that promise to you this time, Capell," she said in an angry voice that sounded forced. "I won't. I won't listen if you tell me to run or to fall back. I fight with you – no matter what this time. Don't you dare try to stop me. And don't think I'll let Ed or anyone else drag me from your side again." His hand stroked the back of her head tenderly, his other arm snaking beneath her to keep her close.

"Alright Aya." He was speaking to her in that soothing way he had used the last time she had pleaded for him not to leave her. Her hand found his arm and she clutched it desperately, forgetting that only inches above her grip battered nerves were screaming in protest at her touch. Capell ignored the throb, though.

"She-" Aya's composure was breaking, only this time she wasn't screaming hysterically. This time it was a quiet breaking, one that somehow hurt him worse than before. "She touched Sigmund and from it he went crazy. From just a touch. What if – what if-"

Sigmund's fear had been real as he had told his story earlier that evening. His eyes had ghosted something of that madness that had overtaken him previously, though his composure had held firm. Still, it had been enough to unsettle everyone.

And it seemed Aya was taking it harder than Capell. His mouth found hers and he stifled her spoken fears beneath tender kisses.

"Do you know how hard I will fight to stay by your side?" He whispered against her lips. "What I will do to stay with you?" His fingers grazed her cheek.

"You promised to marry me," she whispered in response, "Capell please don't leave me again…"

He drowned out her pleas with another kiss – this time desperate. He needed for her to stop pleading for something he could not promise. They were going into battle – there was no choice for them in it. Things far worse than Larva and Quetzalcoatl would be coming through that gate soon.

Like Gabriel Celeste. Sigmund's mention of a second terrible entity had only added to the danger. Edward and Eugene were actually preparing written instructions for succession to their thrones in case…

He tightened his arms around her, not knowing what to say; what to do. She was afraid and he couldn't chase off her fears. He was grateful she had not mentioned planning for succession to her throne. If she had spoken of dying, Capell did not know how he would react. Losing Faina and Leif had driven him to a state of mind he had never known he was capable of.

Losing Aya would probably kill him.

He pushed away the thought before it had a chance to complete itself in his mind. He could not afford to think this way now.

His fingers threaded through her hair and kissed her deeply, feeling relief when she sighed against his face at last. Her hand slid absently up his arm, tracing a sharp stab of pain until her grip settled over the bandage. With a start she drew back and began murmuring apologies. Capell took her hand and draped it over his neck, returning to their kiss without a word, and Aya's eyes slid closed, forgetting the blunder with the touch of his lips.

Capell's hands strayed over her body, slowly peeling back clothing to touch the skin beneath, caressing the skin he uncovered. Aya shifted to accommodate his work and pushed at the blankets with her feet and legs until they no longer separated her body from his. It wasn't a solution to their problems, but when she made love to him Aya was only aware of Capell. She only knew his touch, his scent. The words he murmured into her ear; so full of reverence. She needed him now – needed to drown out everything but him.

Aya's arms slipped to his waist and she pulled him tightly to her, allowing his leg to wedge between hers. He felt her growing heat against his thigh, his own arousal answering hers. Capell's fingers became bolder and Aya moaned when they began traveling to places no other man had touched before. Battle roughened fingers found twin soft peaks beneath her blouse and Aya sighed at the attention he devoted to each.

When his hand moved on and slid between their bodies to the moist heat between her legs Aya bit her lip to keep from crying out. Sigmund was in the next room, and shouts could still be heard through palace walls. Capell covered her mouth with his and pressed on without mercy when Aya wriggled and shuddered as he buried his fingers within her, his lips and tongue muffling the moans she only partially suppressed. His free hand pressed against her lower back, holding her tightly from him, preventing her from writhing free of him – not that it was her intention to do so.

Her leg slid up his thigh, wrapping tightly around his hip and pushing herself against him with need that he would not yet give in to. She had to forget everything but this, he concluded, and he would make certain that this moment was the only thing Aya was capable of knowing right now. He would drive her to total distraction. His fingers left her warmth to caress the sensitive peak of her womanhood with gentle, fluttering strokes, dragging ragged breaths from her before delving back in to her depths, her back arching, her hands clutching at him desperately.

She was so beautiful when her face contorted in passion, he thought. Her eyes were only half opened, her lips working against the noises that threatened to break free of her throat. Capell's mouth found her collarbone and he gently allowed his teeth to play against her skin, Aya's head tilting back to make room for his ministrations. Skin pulled into his teeth, his tongue grazing the flesh before he released it and move on. He still worked within her, stroking and thrusting with a gentle coaxing that had her core tightening convulsively around his fingers.

Aya was able to bring herself into active participation at last, fingernails dragging light trails from his back and against the place where his thigh met his toned stomach. Capell sucked in a breath through his teeth and hesitated for only a moment when Aya's fingers intentionally grazed his arousal, abandoning it to neglected torment as she returned to softly tracing the firm skin of his inner hip once more. He looked up to see hungry eyes trained on him, her teeth working her lower lip furiously, to the point where he had to kiss her to keep her from drawing blood it seemed.

When his lips met hers Aya clutched at his manhood with a possessive greed, her thumb moving over its head in similar fashion to the way his finger teased her most sensitive place. Her grip slid up the length of him, slick with the sweat of their bodies, her thumb smoothing velvet strokes across the tip. Now it was Capell's turn to moan into her mouth and against his will his hips bucked into her hand, wordlessly begging her for more, his fingers stilled and forgotten.

Triumphantly Aya pulled free of him and as gently as she could to avoid hurting his shoulder, urged him onto his back. She slid herself down along his torso, watching him as she moved and touched. He was chiseled marble covered in smooth skin, hard and soft and so beautiful she relished every moment she could see him as he had been created. Capell watched her studying him, and waited for her to straddle him and claim her victory, but instead she moved to the foot of the bed, pinning him with carnal eyes until she hovered between his legs, no longer touching him; only watching.

One slender hand swiftly wrapped around his need and before Capell could utter protest Aya's mouth engulfed the head, her tongue exploring the tip with firm pressure. Capell cried out softly, failing to exercise the same restraint Aya had shown; his full concentration set on not thrusting his hips forward and driving himself forcefully into her. Aya seemed to know his struggle and placed her free hand on his hip to hold him down, her lips and tongue working further along the shaft. The slick heat of her mouth drew sharp pants from Capell, who fisted fingers in the sheets helplessly as she worked.

He could not reach any of her sensitive places from here, could not kiss her passionately. In this Aya was in command and Capell could only lie there and obey. The conquest was clear on her face and, looking pointedly into his eyes, she tightened her lips and swirled her tough around the head with increased vigor, her fingers tightening and moving in unison with her mouth. Capell's eyes rolled back into his head, unable to distinguish anything but the sensation Aya was bringing dangerously close to the surface. His body clenched and he struggled against it. Not now… he wanted her to join him. He needed her to go over the edge with him. Needed to make her cry out in ecstasy… Needed…

His hands found her shoulders and he pulled her away, a bit roughly for the startled look on her face.

"Not like this," he growled and pulled her body over his, his mouth claiming hers once more hungrily. Her tongue tasted of him, salty yet somehow sweet. He had been dangerously close to leaving her behind completely, he knew. Did she know what kind of power she held over him?

His hands gripped behind her thighs, pulling them to either side of his hips, and he pressed himself against her entrance. She cupped the sides of his face in each hand and kissed him slowly, holding her body above him; letting the anticipation build as she allowed him to press against her, but not to enter. Capell tried once more, but she rose with him, permitting the pressure to increase slightly, but not enough to accomplish his goal. Capell groaned in delicious agony but did not bring her down onto him physically. Aya had claimed the victory; it was now up to her to decide when she would allow him in.

With taunting plays of her hips, Capell felt himself enter her fractionally only to be removed once more. The tip was buried and then removed, a little further and then nothing. She watched his eyes expectantly, repeating the offers without giving him full satisfaction.

Had he not been in such a state of torture, Capell might have laughed. She wanted to hear him say it.

She had won, after all.

"Please," he rasped at last with so much want that he did not recognize his own voice, "please Aya…"

With an exhalation that told him she had been holding her breath, Aya lowered herself onto his length, and Capell's hands gripped her hips tightly, making certain that he filled her completely. Aya's head tossed back as she sat straight, letting Capell's hands set their pace. She had taken her victory, and now she would enjoy the spoils of Capell's attentions.

He moved her slowly at first, letting her slip into the rhythm with him, feeling the well of desire within her build and flood. At last her warmth tightening around him, her pants turned into mewls, and he increased the measure to match her need. She was working with him now to quicken the pace; he could feel her beneath his hands, pushing against him, urging him on. His insides constricted as well and with every shred of willpower he possessed, Capell held back until she was at last crying out. Her walls gripped him spasmodically and, no longer able to hold back, Capell spilled forth, his groaning bliss joining hers until she at last collapsed onto his chest, shuddering and panting as his thrusting at last stilled with her.

He wrapped his arms around her, his hands stroked her hair and back tenderly, listening as her breathing slowed and his heartbeat calmed. His limbs tingled in the after-effect and he held onto Aya as though she would keep him from floating away. Her fingers trailed slow circles on his chest and for a time he truly forgot why it was he had first taken her this night. When at last he remembered, Capell twisted his neck to afford him a view down to her face.

Aya's lids were closed, her features relaxed. Her fingers had ceased their patterns against his skin some time ago. She slept easily and Capell was grateful that he had been able to spare her the pain she was going through. A tender kiss placed on the top of her head and Capell closed his eyes as well, Aya's whispered breaths a lullaby that pulled him into sleep along with her.

XXXX

Capell found the following morning came later for him that it did for the others for the first time in quite a while. Only Aya had risen after him, and only by a few moments. That no one had bothered to knock on their door to wake them told Aya that they had not been as discreet as they had hoped. They had not been quiet at the end, after all. She kept her thoughts to herself, though. If Capell was sharing her worry he didn't show it, and she had no desire to put the thought into his head otherwise.

Aya tried not to blush when Sigmund watched as she and Capell entered Halgita's former chapel, now converted to an interior garden. Though his expression betrayed no hint of anything but his usual composure, Aya thought she could see something there that said he knew how she and his son had spent their night. Capell however, seemed as collected as his father and greeted everyone with a composure the situation called for.

Michelle had already examined Sigmund's head wound, ticking her disliking of him going into battle before being fully recovered under her breath. Sigmund had said nothing and she had not tried to actually ask him to stay behind. For all her moments of seeming naivety, Michelle knew better than to try to change Sigmund's mind once he had set it. With a pat of his back she was urging Capell to remove his breastplate – _yes right here, please_ - so she could peer down his tunic to the dressings at his shoulder.

Capell heard her chuckle so softly it was barely audible, but when she had finished her examination she pronounced that his recovery was going well. She seemed to stress the word 'recovery' however, as if to make it clear that neither Sigmund nor Capell were yet rid of the wounds they had inflicted on one another. Capell ignored the innuendo and donned his armor once more.

"Eugene, Ed, did you take care of what you wanted?" He purposely did not include Aya in the question. Their last wishes – it was hard enough asking his friends if they had made them known. To ask Aya to plan for her death…

"We did." Eugene was not going to be as merciful, even though he spoke his words with kindness. "What of Cassandra and Fayal?"

When Aya nodded Capell felt his stomach drop into his boots. She had her last wishes recorded as well. Of course she would – she was always careful of her responsibility to others. His late morning had deprived Capell of his chance to clear up matters of his own, and he found himself the last to follow suit.

"Actually," Capell looked to Sigmund with a bit of embarrassment, "I meant to talk to you about this, father – in private. However now that seems… never mind. I reclaimed Cassandra. When Leonid fell it was vulnerable. The others took control of it until I came home and then-" Sigmund cut off Capell's rambling with a raised hand.

"You will make a good king, Capell," he said without hesitation, "and I would be honored to be your advisor if you would permit it." Capell knew that his face was showing the surprise he felt, but he could not clear it.

"Yes, yes of course." He replied and hesitated until he seemed to remember himself with a shake of his head. "In that case, I have my instructions ready as well." And Capell produced a sealed sheet of paper. "Genma, please add this to the others." The elder took the instructions with all the respect one would give a king and saluted.

"We need to be going." Capell said and turned to the city entrance. "Everyone ready?" Murmurs of consent responded and Capell started for the entrance.

"Just one moment," Sigmund interrupted and the party halted, "Capell, if I may?" It was as before, Sigmund pulling Capell aside before a major battle to talk of something important. Capell nodded and followed the man off to a quiet wall, the others waiting quietly in place.

When at last they reached a place in the entryway that was well outside of earshot for anyone Sigmund turned. "The advice I've given you in the past could have been construed as the advice of a leader to his successor," Sigmund said at last, but with a quiet way that caught Capell's attention more than before. "This time… this time I must ask for your permission to give you the advice of a father to his son." He waited and Capell realized he was actually asking for permission.

"Please," Capell nodded, "I would appreciate it." Sigmund seemed almost relieved, but hesitated before he began, as if doubting the words he had already chosen.

"You have a woman who is willing to give her life to save yours Capell," he said at last, "and I know that you would do the same for her." Capell wondered how he had figured out the extent of their feelings, but before he could ask Sigmund went on. "When Aya confirmed she had planned for Fayal's future without her, your face lost all color. And when you handed your letter to Genma, her knees gave way slightly. Such reactions would not occur between two people who only share passion." Capell felt his face redden with embarrassment. Sigmund _had_ heard them.

"I'm so sorry," he said quickly, "we didn't mean-" but Sigmund waved off his apology quickly.

"There is no need for that." He said. "My point is that you cannot let a love such as that go unspoken. It is too precious and rare. Forgive me for prying, but does she know your feelings towards her?" Capell managed a smiled now despite his discomfort and nodded.

"We're getting married," he said softly, "after this is over, we'll be announcing our engagement to the others." True pride crossed Sigmund's face at that moment and Capell's smile brightened. He'd seen traces of fatherly emotions from Sigmund since he woke, but now he was able to experience it completely. It was strange, but now that he had a father, he wanted nothing more than the relationship the two should share.

"Good. Capell, do not allow duty to interfere with your heart's desire, so long as it is pure. If this battle or your duties to your kingdoms should come between you and Aya-" Capell shook his head.

"Aya and I would never be able to live with ourselves if we let you all go in there without us." He said quickly. "This is our fight as much as it is yours." Sigmund nodded solemnly.

"Very well. I will not ask you to stay behind. But Capell, do not lose her, and do not let her lose you if you can help it. To lose someone you love," Sigmund's eyes clouded over, "it is not something that ever leaves you. Even if you forget the loss, the pain of it will live on in your heart, though you do not understand what it means. Do you understand what I am telling you?" Capell nodded slowly. He understood that all too well.

The memory of Sigmund embroiled in battle with Leonid and then disappearing in a flash of light had haunted him since that terrible day. And then the knowledge of why Sigmund had sacrificed himself – of who Sigmund was to him – had only compounded the void in Capell's life. For a time he had been given his father back, and he had not known it until it was too late. It had been like a wound that refused to heal.

Capell knew all too well that terrible ache of loss.

"I promise to do all I can." He hesitated, uncertain how to say what he felt. It was all so new to him – so frightening. "Father," he murmured, "please, be careful in there too. Don't do anything reckless. I…" He swallowed. "I can't lose you again. I… need you."

It was hard to say those words out loud; hard to admit that he needed anyone to their face. He'd never said anything like this to anyone but Aya, and it had taken a great deal to be able to admit that to her. But if he was going to have a relationship with his father, Capell had to take the first step. Sigmund seemed to understand the momentousness of such a statement, for surprise widened his eyes.

It took about ten heartbeats for Sigmund to move after that. Placing his hand behind Capell's neck, Sigmund bent his head inward; pressing his forehead into Capell's hair in the same way the new Liberator had seen countless fathers display affection to their young sons. Hot tears traced down Capell's cheeks and he gripped his father's shoulders tightly. He had never expected this kind of reaction from the stoic man, and it had caught him completely off guard.

He had a father – he truly had a father! The word had been something he had toyed with before, even thought he could believe. But now, standing here with Sigmund, the paternal embrace rocked Capell to his core. Just as quickly as it had begun, the moment ended and Capell swiped at the tracks on his face with impatient fingers, trying to echo the composure Sigmund had held to.

Until he noticed the glistening in his father's eyes – the only hint that Sigmund felt anything as profound as he.

"We should…" Capell scrubbed at his cheeks one last time, "we should go." Sigmund nodded but said nothing, though Capell noticed his father's throat lurch as though he were swallowing hard.

When Capell and Sigmund rejoined the groups, there was no pretense from anyone that they had not seen the exchange. Aya smiled tenderly at Capell , entwining her fingers in his briefly. Edward gave Capell's good shoulder a brother squeeze while Michelle rested her arms upon Sigmund's shoulders and whispered something into his ear that brought a subdued smile to his lips. No one was boisterous; no one said much of anything. They simply stood there, waiting.

"We should go." Capell repeated once more, and the others fell into step behind him.

It was time to go to Kolton.

Back to the Seraphic Gate.

XXXX

**A/N – I know the chapter title can come off as kinky, but it really was meant to symbolize the relationships between the characters. ;o) Anyway, please tell me what you think. I really wanted to express the emotional side before we head straight back into blood and blades – you know? And let me know what you think of my first lemon – that way I can work on improving it if needed.**


	5. A Dangerous Pretense

**I've pulled myself out of my writing funk and decided to post another chapter! V Took me freakin' long enough! And so, without further ado…**

Chapter 5: A Dangerous Pretense.

The dune harpy let loose a shrill peal before settling lifelessly at his feet. Sigmund kept the blood stained blade free of the scabbard – they were fighting more often than not in this place. Beyond the fallen winged creature Edward's great sword was cleaving through the air; the fire gigas the stoic man faced was already staggering. Dominica's massive blade had struck its wide back a moment before. An arrow whistled its deadly pursuit; Aya's aim true as the broad head found the gigas's eye, felling the monster.

Capell pulled his sword free of a slain Quetzalcoatl a short distance beyond the fire gigas and raised a questioning look to Sigmund.

_Are you okay?_

Sigmund twirled his blade beside him; stretching the tendons in a hand that was already growing stiff from gripping the sword for so long. He did not remember the trip out of the Gate when the Force had pulled him from this place and his madness, nor could he remember the amount of fighting it had required to traverse the world within. He had been unconscious during most of that excursion. And when he had inhabited this place with the beasts, they had not fought him as they did now. It was almost as though they had viewed him as one of them. The idea of it repulsed him.

A jerk of his chin towards Capell and the young man seemed satisfied. However just as Sigmund thought the young man had believed his silent answer, thin fingers were tugging at his head gently. Michelle's eyes then peered up at him, and Sigmund brushed her aside as gently as he could while making clear that he did not require her aid.

"I am fine." He said, holding her hands down in a manner that was more than slightly restraining. "Have you looked in on Capell?" At this the sweet face before him almost frowned.

"He asked the same thing of you," she was scolding him without actually scolding him. Michelle never spoke to him in a way that could be considered outright cross. Gentle fingers tugged free and reached for his head once more. "Of course I did." Michelle said in response to his question and Sigmund's hands fell to his sides, allowing Michelle to finish her examination. Capell had stopped fighting and was now watching them.

Whatever complaint Sigmund had thought to lodge against the forced treatment died at the look from his son. Capell did not look at him to intimidate, or to corner him into obedience. True concern was clear in those eyes.

He had clearly not been lying when he had told Sigmund he needed his father.

Throughout his second life – the life he had lived after forfeiting his Lunaglyph – Sigmund had never felt needed. He had felt important, respected, admired, and appreciated, but never truly needed. True he could cut the chains, but he had always suspected that there were others with his ability, even before he discovered the reason it was possible for some and not for others. And so even then he had not felt necessary; only convenient.

But Capell had said plainly that he – Sigmund – was needed. Capell still wielded the Emblazoned Sword Sigmund had given him, though there were far more superior blades he could use in its stead. And though he had not spoken of things like affection or love, the reaction Sigmund had received when embracing Capell had been all the confession Sigmund needed. It had nearly overpowered him when Sigmund felt Capell's hands pull at his shoulders; when he had looked into Capell's face and saw tears.

His son cared for him, and by the grace of fate Sigmund would make certain that he gave his son the father Capell should have had his entire life. Whatever guilt that filled him, whatever sins he still must atone for; Sigmund would not deny Capell the father he desired.

When Michelle was finished Sigmund strode over to his son who had been joined by Edward. "We should hurry," he announced, "time is different in this place. There is no knowing with any certainty how long we have been here."

"I had that same feeling," Edward frowned, "nothing here changes to reflect the passage of time; and the fighting has been so consistent I cannot even use our battles as a reference point."

"We must press on with as little combat as possible. It would be fatal to attempt to rest here," Sigmund said, looking out to watch as Eugene and Dominica took down another dune harpy; Eugene's staff spinning and striking out swiftly. He had been forced to learn to wield the rod as a physical weapon when he had lost the arcane offensive powers of a mage, and had even managed to earn Balbagon's praise at the skill he now displayed.

"There is a place where we can rest safely," Sigmund went on, "but it is far from here, and we still have enemies a good deal stronger than these to face along the way."

Capell nodded and started for the next teleporter, rounding up the others with a broad sweeping motion of his arm.

"How far is this safe haven?" Capell asked, trying to keep the group far enough from the closest beasts to avoid fighting. Their trail curved and snaked over the sands, but it was helping. Though they were more powerful, and more aggressive, the monsters of this world were no more intelligent than the ones back home. If Capell kept the creatures at a great enough distance the things seemingly did not notice the humans were passing through.

"The Oradian Dunes are the second plane of the Seraphic Gate." Sigmund watched a fountainbeak wing along in the distance, his sword arm tensing slightly as he waited to see if the avian would notice their presence. The bird continued on obliviously. "The place we seek resembles Castle Kolton. There are no beasts there to contend with, and in that place we can rest and prepare for what lies ahead. It is, however, the eighth plane of the Seraphic Gate."

"I hope Michelle brought enough healing supplies." Dominica mused and the fair healer smiled sweetly.

"Why do you think Eugene carries such a big pack?" She returned and the former mercenary chuckled, her mirth fleeting as a harpy started for them. "I've got this one."

"I'll cover yer back." Vic announced and trotted off after the tall woman.

"Where are the Queen and Gabriel?" Capell lead the group onward, watching Dominica and Vic to be certain they didn't need help. The thief's swift strikes distracted the quick-moving monster long enough for Dominica to cleave the thing's skull with her Braveheart.

"The Ethereal Queen resides in the thirteenth and final plane, a palace the likes of which I have never seen before. Gabriel Celeste inhabits the eleventh plane, a copy of Castle Prevant." The teleporter appeared when they rounded a short rock cliff. "But before all of that," Sigmund gestured with his sword, "we must first pass through this gate and into the False Luce Plains."

XXXX

The wyvern in the False Luce Plains had nearly put Michelle into fits, though Rucha and her Hydrake had been magnificent in that battle. While most magic had vanished with Veros, some had remained. Like Capell and his flute, the twins' remaining powers were derived from Seruleus, allowing Rico to continue on as a beastmaster, and Rucha as a summoner. The triumph on that cherub face when the winged monster had fallen told the group the girl was finally beginning to outgrow her fears.

The next plane, a copy of Bihar Mines, had kept them stumbling in the darkness for longer than they had hoped. The place seemed to absorb the light of lanterns and sunstones, causing them to continue stubbing toes and falling victim to sneak attacks from Lumpers. Kiriya had muttered about the need to bathe excessively after one particularly close encounter with the little wretches.

After that was an accidental wrong turn into the replica of Port Zala and its coast. That place was a dead end for their mission, but had within a Leviathan that had bruised and battered them all before finally falling to their counterattack. Retracing their path back through Bihar Mines to the correct teleporter had put most of the party in sour spirits for a while after that.

And then there were the Cobasna Timberlands, which had made Edward shudder and pale. The mimicked lunar rain within had fallen harmlessly upon them, now that they bore no Lunaglyphs that could twist them into monsters. Yet the memory of that day in Kolton still clung to the reserved man, and Capell had watched his best friend go quiet as they passed through, Edward scrutinizing the falling light with trepidation. The Peluda they had been forced to combat had almost been a welcome distraction; until they realized they stood a very good chance of being burned to cinders if they were not careful.

By the time they reached the sixth plane, a strangely desolate version of Nolan, the Force was bone weary; their pace had slowed considerably. Even Sigmund was moving with less urgency, though his eyes still bore their intensity and he still spoke to them of the need to hurry. The twins had glanced wistfully at the familiar image of their house upon its hill before Capell pushed them onward.

"Only one more plane and then we can rest." He said with enthusiasm that had to be forced in part. "We'll eat, get some rest, and then finish what we came here to do. Come on people, the sooner we get there the sooner we can leave."

"And go home!" Vic added longingly. "What kinda place is this?! Even that stack of reports on Ed's desk is lookin' pretty good to me!" Edward chuckled wearily.

"I'll second that." He added and brought his sword down to crush a crab that had come underfoot.

Ignoring the approaching wendigo, Capell hurried the Force to the teleporter at the center of town. They had been running from fights more than actually fighting of late. Despite Sigmund's words of caution, avoiding battle had been harder than they had thought. The landscapes had been teeming with bloodthirsty creatures.

Bright light flared from the teleporter and they were within an unmistakable building. Though he did not recognize the exact hallway in which they stood, the architecture was clear – they were inside Vesplume Tower. Capell turned anxiously to Sigmund, and the looks of a few others followed.

"I suggest we press on," Sigmund said to no one in particular, his eyes fixed on the hallway before them, "I for one hold no love for this place." Capell smirked at his father's admission.

"Let's find the teleporter," Capell tugged his head in the direction they had to go. "I could use some sleep."

The hallways twisted, Order soldiers and a frost gigas met them as they tried to move on. In these cramped quarters there was no choice but to fight, and the members of the Force took turns at the fore to keep the strain of battle as minimal to all as possible.

Beyond their fallen foes was a door that vanished when they approached. Another door followed with no beasts behind it. Capell pushed them forward; the hallway gave no option to make a wrong turn. A third door dissipated.

A large chamber stood before them, a chamber not uncommon for the Tower. Beyond its massive pillars and elaborately designed floor, a small figure floated on six dark wings. Sigmund exhaled sharply in surprise, but Capell made no sigh that he had noticed his father's reaction.

Only the winged figure before him held his attention now.

"Leif?"

Aya gasped from behind and, without hesitating, Capell moved towards the boy, reaching for him.

"Leif!"

Sigmund's iron grip on his injured shoulder caused Capell to cry out in agony, but his father did not let go. Capell felt Sigmund pulling at him, urging his son back. Capell resisted. It was _Leif_!

"Gabriel." The name Sigmund spoke made no sense to Capell. He couldn't grasp its meaning. Only the boy before him meant anything. He was alive! He hadn't died after all! Capell ignored the explosion of pain his father's hand caused on his shoulder and tried to jerk free of Sigmund's hold.

Leif pulled a massive doubled bladed sword seemingly out of nowhere. When he opened his mouth a voice, as menacing as any Capell had ever heard, laughed in anticipation.

Capell blinked in confusion. Leif had a man's voice? No not a man's… The name his father had spoken finally meant something to him.

"Gabriel Celeste?" Capell could accept that the image he had built up of what Gabrielle should look like – all muscles and imposing stature – could be wrong. But not this. Not Leif. This _was_ Leif. His father was wrong. He had been insane before, after all…

The laughter from the boy stopped and sorrow took its place in Leif's features.

"You couldn't save me before," the dark voice blended with the voice of a boy and Sigmund watched his son recoil, "you couldn't save me. You said you would take care of us. Why were you so late?" Capell's chest heaved.

"… Leif…"

The boy shook his head miserably, tiny fists clamping down on the hilt of his sword desperately. "Please… I'm so scared! I can't find Faina. What happened to Faina, Capell?"

"Stop it!" Aya shrieked from behind.

The new Liberator sobbed, and Sigmund realized, his skin crawling at the thought, why Gabriel had taken the form of a child. It was a weapon against Capell. Whoever this boy had been, the effect of seeing him here was unraveling Capell's mind. And the others seemed nearly as reluctant to raise their weapons against the boy as Capell. With the same punishing grip Sigmund jerked Capell around so that the young man faced him and only him.

"That is not the boy, Leif," Sigmund said quietly, "do you understand? It is a ruse to make you surrender before the fight has begun. Do not give in, Capell. You have to fight him, or he will destroy you." Capell shook his head, his eyes pleading.

"Not Leif…" Sigmund nearly bared his teeth.

"Then I will go in your stead." His words were gentle and in complete contrast with his expression. Before Capell knew what he had meant, Sigmund's blade was raised and he was rushing the winged child with murderous intent. Alfheim clamored in their ears painfully within the confined space.

Capell watched in horror, torn by the desire to save the boy and to protect his father. The menacing voice returned, commanding Sigmund to repent. From behind Kiriya was moving past him, followed closely by Dominica.

Leif was… Capell shook his head. Reality snapped into him like a bowstring. He had watched Leif die with his own eyes. And that time was not like when they had lost Sigmund. This time there had been bodies to bury. Capell could still remember the slight weight in his arms as he lowered the shrouded boy into the grave with his sister. He could remember the smell of blood…

Capell's blood boiled in rage. In hatred.

His scream of fury echoed against the stone walls and Capell hurtled forward, the Emblazoned Sword cutting through air and colliding with the great twin bladed sword, pushing the enormous weapon down so he could peer into the imposter's eyes.

"_Leif is dead!" _

"Wretched fool!" The deep voice boomed from the thing that resembled the boy he had so cared for, "you shall pay for your transgression!" Capell roared again, Dancing Rhapsody pummeling the red and blue blades. Sigmund's blade joined Capell's and the two struck at the boy repeatedly. Dancing Rhapsody succeeded by Spinning Waltz. Eternal Refrain and Reginleif in unison from the two men, and all within just a few seconds. Sigmund stayed close, spurring the young man on. Who this Leif had been to Capell did not matter at this point, only that they lived and Gabriel did not.

With a sudden flare of red and white light, Gabriel vanished, appearing once more on the other side of the room, two faespheres materializing to either side of the room. The Force dispersed in response, scattering over the room in a blanket maneuver, some of the party taking up combat against the black orbs. There was no place within the chamber Gabriel could go that would put him at a safe distance from a human combatant. And now Capell's best friend stood closest.

Edward's Twinstream bashed against the apparently frail figure, and yet when he had finished the boy turned to look at him as though he were a flea. Edward plunged in once more with Rising Current.

The dual sword spun wildly and an attack the creature called Noble Play ripped at the Burguss King, sending the man ricocheting against a stone pillar before finally crumpling to the floor.

"Ed!" Capell screamed in terror for his friend. Heedless of the dangers, Michelle was between Edward and his attacker instantly, tiny pouches and vials of medicinal powders and potions clutched tightly in one hand while her other hand worked to pry open his mouth, her teeth pulling at the stopper of a green-tinted potion. Balbagon planted himself firmly in front of the pair, his great axe swinging in a barely controlled arc that had the boy-creature gliding back to stay out of range.

Capell bolted for the deity. They could not fight Gabriel one-on-one. It had to be a group and whoever was closest could support Capell in his attacks. A flash glinted at his side, Sigmund's blade shining in the dull light as he hurried beside his son. Though the elder never once cast his eyes at Capell, the son knew that his father was not going to stray far from his side during this fight.

Astrogul materialized at its young mistress's command, the others closing ranks as well. Edward had been all the proof they needed that this was going to be a battle for their lives. Honeysuckle nearly grazed Balbagon's ear as it erupted from Komachi's fingers towards their target, Aya's arrows firing in rapid succession as the ranged attacks gained a head-start on the melee fighting.

Before the others could come too close, father and son reached their target. Capell's Levantine Slash and Sigmund's Grinn Valesti struck as one and, distracted by Aya and Komachi's attacks, Gabriel's back pounded forcefully on the floor. Diminuendo Dive was called out viciously and a wicked down slash from Sigmund's blade followed closely, preventing Gabriel from rising into the air once more. Dominica's massive blade fell down upon the child-like body as well, the mercenary acting in harmony with their attempts. If they could keep him prone-

The dual bladed sword pinwheeled above their fallen foe and Capell was struck by the blade first. He felt his feet leave the ground, felt his body collide with something hard, and then he was flying again, Sigmund grunting from beneath him when the two finally collided with a wall and came to rest upon the floor. Voices were crying out somewhere behind them. Capell pushed himself off of his father and spun round to see Balbagon and Eugene had taken the Cassandrans places, with Aya in the background raining Raven Venom upon Gabriel, her face twisted in anger. Dominica was pushing herself upright from where she had landed on the other side of the room.

Capell stepped forward and felt his head swim. He looked down. Blood was pooling slowly beneath his sword arm. No doubt that the old wound had reopened, and now it could be worse; he didn't remember how much he had bled last time. Sigmund's expression picked up something akin to fear at the sight of Capell's state.

Not even moments into the fight and already they were suffering seriously.

"Medic!" His father was shouting at the top of his lungs and Capell shook his head, both in denial and to clear his vision. He could still stand – he could still fight. Kiriya was locked in combat against a faesphere, and could not acknowledge if he had heard the call for aid. Michelle still hovered over Edward and looked to Capell with worry.

"You stay with him, Michelle," Capell ordered, pointing the blade at her to make it known it was _not_ a request.

"Capell," Sigmund's tone was firm, but Capell turned a hard gaze to his father.

"Later." The Liberator bolted for the fighting grounds once more, the heavy chink of metal behind him telling Capell that his father followed closely.

The Nightwhisperer's timid voice called out and Nightshade answered her. The pretty warrior was instantaneously behind Gabriel, her deadly craft landing blow upon blow and before Gabriel could complete his maneuver to circle and counter her, Komachi was away once more.

In tune with the thoughts and habits of one another, Aya acted once Komachi was out of range, Devouring Vulture clearing the area, making certain that she did not miss. As one the members of the Force acted, attacking, distracting and never giving their foe a moment's respite. Though Gabriel was landing blows of his own, Capell was surprised at how well the battle was now going for them. They had never before fought a foe in full force. Even Veros had been faced with only a party of four. Yet with Veros they had possessed Lunaglyphs – capable of reviving and healing the injured instantly. In this fight their significant advantage was now missing.

Gabriel's blades stilled and Sigmund stiffed.

"_Scatter!"_

Bodies leapt and rolled away from the flying menace at Sigmund's cry. None questioned his reason or hesitated at his command. The dark voice echoed within the cavernous room, but the attack he called Critical Flare failed to touch a single person in thanks to Sigmund's warning. Capell sheathed his sword and produced the flute. Prudentiae had the ability to counter all magical effects, not just those that had been attained through Lunaglyphs. When next the twin blades stilled, the melody withered Gabriel's spell into worthlessness while the Force was able to press on with their attacks.

Capell's song cut off abruptly when a groan sounded from behind him. He dared a glance behind him and found Edward was rubbing an armored hand over his face, Michelle pulling his arm aside so she could continue her work. Capell's head spun dizzily again when he returned his attention to the battle, and he had to dance a step to keep upon his feet. Though she stood less than twenty paces from him, Capell could not distinguish Aya's features upon her face. He blinked and his vision became distorted immediately this time. The fingers within his right gauntlet were slick; yet he knew he wasn't sweating that much.

_This is bad._

The dual sided sword ceased it's swinging again and Capell brought the flute back to his lips, Prudentiae saving his friends from the attack that would have been unleashed.

Gabriel's eyes rose to the source of his consistent disruption.

Red and white light flared and when Capell blinked the sweet-faced monster was before him. Faintly, as though hearing the world through a long tunnel, he heard as Noble Play was called forth; saw the flash of red and blue steel as it spun for him too quickly to see with any detail. His mind managed to distinguish the cries of his father and Aya; the clamor of another armored body as it began to move rapidly.

Pointlessly.

The flute clattered to the polished floor; the Emblazoned Sword rang loudly as it met the deadly attack above the combatants' heads, halting the blades. Blood dripped from Capell's wrist, leaving crimson droplets upon his hair and cheeks. Capell ignored the fact that he could not see clearly, that lightheadedness threatened to overtake him. He heaved with all of his might, pushing the attacking weapon from him violently. Gabriel launched into another attack, but by some miracle Capell could not fathom, the new Liberator moved faster.

"Spinning Waltz!" Gabriel staggered and Capell did not hesitate. Diminuendo Dive, Marching Boots, Dancing Rhapsody, Eternal Refrain; Capell unleashed his fastest attacks upon the deity without pause. His stomach twisted and heaved as the world spun around him rapidly, and he shut his eyes frequently to keep himself from succumbing to vertigo. The bizarre sword Gabriel wielded made his attacks slower and made it nearly impossible to counter Capell's lightning-quick strikes. Capell lost track of what his comrades were doing; only the feeling of his sword landing blow upon blow against his enemy held his attention, and Capell pushed on without mercy to his foe or himself.

Another performance of Dancing Rhapsody ended and when Capell moved into Crescendo Spike, his blade met only open air. Capell held his next attack at bay long enough to see where his sword must go now.

Round green eyes seemed to grow impossibly wide when Capell's unsteady senses found Gabriel once more. A strangled cry gurgled from the god – all dark and sinister with no trace of the boy's sweet soprano. Black wings folded and the body of Gabriel Celeste fell at the Liberator's feet. Silence followed, and Capell waited, sword raised and ready for the deity to launch into another attack. Nothing came.

A second of silence passed and Capell kicked the dual-bladed weapon, sending it skimming across the floor. He poked at a limp hand with the toe of his boot and received no reaction. The hand he prodded moved in limp reaction before stilling once more. No breath stirred Gabriel's chest, no pulse beat at his pale throat.

Gabriel Celeste was dead.

Capell's body suddenly felt unbearably heavy, and he allowed the Emblazoned sword to fall from his fingers, unable to hold it up any longer. To see the boy's body laying there like that; memories of another time assaulted Capell and more from emotion than injuries, Capell felt his legs try to give way.

"Capell!" Aya was under his good arm and he gladly surrendered some of his weight to her support. From behind he felt his armor being unfastened, bleary eyes turned to find Sigmund studying the buckles as he worked. Beyond Aya's shoulder Eugene was kneeling before Dominica, mixing blue powder with water from a flask to cake into a cut on her forehead. Capell looked down to his hands and blinked. His gauntlet was streaked crimson and when he flexed his fingers more of the stain emerged from the seam between his cuirass and munnion. The blood was his, he realized.

"Who else is injured?"

Kiriya stepped before him, and Capell was obligated to swallow a vial of green berry potion.

"A few minor cuts and bruises," the master healer said off-handedly, "but none worse than you and Edward, for all the foolishness you displayed."

"Enough." Sigmund's tone was even, yet it gave no room for compromise. Capell felt his cuirass pulled from him with care. Aya helped to lower Capell to sit upon the floor and Kiriya knelt before the Liberator, not even granting Capell the courtesy of unfastening his own tunic. The bandages that spanned his shoulder now matched the dye of his tunic and the shade of his eyes. Capell heard Aya's quiet inhalation and Kiriya's face screwed up into a frown.

"So much for getting out of here quickly." The blonde man murmured, but with kind hands he began unraveling the bandages. Capell blinked heavy lids, staring absently at the body sprawled on the floor before him. Balbagon lowered himself beside the winged corpse, checking to make certain Gabriel was truly dead.

"Veros sure wasn't that hard," Vic slumped against a pillar, watching Balbagon for a moment before turning to the healers. "At least I don't think he was. What's the queen gonna be like if this kid was that tough?"

"Gabriel was no child," Sigmund responded coolly, "he wore the image of the boy in an attempt to gain an advantage." Sigmund's eyebrow arched as he peered down at his son, "and it almost worked."

Capell's head bowed in that familiar way everyone knew. No matter his stature, Capell could not stop himself from apologizing for every small infraction. Yet after a moment the apology they had all expected did not come; and Capell did not stir. Before Kiriya or Aya could act, an armored hand pulled roughly at a fistful of auburn hair. Capell's head was jerked upright by his father. His normally tanned skin had paled to a deathly white; his eyes closed and features slackened. He was unconscious.

"_Capell!"_

XXXX

**A/N**

**Sorry about the wait. The moron fairy paid me a prolonged visit – I couldn't get the story down in print in a way that made me happy. So because I'm neurotic I did not post until I kicked that dumb b***h to the curb.**

**Yami, thank you for your enthusiasm! Please don't throw your laptop through a wall, though – I can't be responsible for the destruction of electronics or extensive building damage. ;o) **

**Thanks everyone for your feedback – it's great to read!**

**I hope this chapter lived up to your expectations.**


	6. For A Tomorrow I'll Never See

**Back for more, are you? Well here you have it. I.U. and its characters aren't mine, but I hope you'll like my manipulations anyway. Maybe someday I'll complete a novel with characters of my own that will have people screaming for more, too.**

Chapter 6: For A Tomorrow I'll Never See

Before he even opened his eyes, Capell was aware that the dull ache in his shoulder was gone. For the first time since his fight with Sigmund he was completely pain free. With cautious fingers that had been freed of their gauntlets, he reached up and felt fresh, heavy dressings at his shoulder. He obviously was not healed yet, so how could the pain be gone?

"Capell?" The second Liberator opened his eyes to find the former looking down at him from his place at his son's shoulder. They were surrounded by smooth stone walls of blue-grey and windows, from which he could see snow falling outside, despite the strange sky beyond the city. They had reached the false Castle Kolton, it seemed. But he couldn't remember coming here. He couldn't remember anything after... it blurred towards the end of his memories of their time in Vesplume Tower. Gabriel had been within arm's reach of him right? Had Capell been attacked? Who had saved him?

_What happened_?

"Have we been here long?" The question was not the most important, but it was the first one his mind could put into words. He pushed himself up into a sitting position, Sigmund reaching out to slow his rise and help him all at once.

"No," he replied, "and you must be careful. Kiriya may have driven off the pain and the imminent danger, but he could not heal you fully. You must take care not to reopen the wound. He used a great deal of our healing supplies to bring you back."

_To what? _Capell's mind stumbled over what Sigmund had just said. All of the other questions in his mind were silenced for an instant.

"Bring me back?" It was all he could do to whisper the question, putting a voice to it was impossible.

"Indeed," Sigmund replied slowly, a shadow of emotion blanketing his face, "for all of his faults, Kiriya's skills are incomparable. Short of Savio, I do not believe anyone else could have done what he did for you."

Capell only nodded, he couldn't find words for a response. What could he say? He had almost died. Maybe for a time he had died – Sigmund did say that Kiriya had brought him back. Back from the brink, or back from death? Capell didn't want to know. Suddenly all of those questions about how the fight had ended seemed dangerous.

"How's Edward?" Capell was eager to change the subject and the site of his friends sleeping beside a small cook fire gave him something new and valid to think about.

"Fine." His father confirmed. "He was able to walk through the gate of his own accord. Michelle said the wound was shallow – Edward was so close to Gabrielle that the force of Noble Play must have pushed him back before the blade actually struck him. He was only stunned by his fall for a moment. It seems Gabrielle's strength did more to save Edward than it did to harm him."

"And Dominica?"

"Everyone is fine, Capell." Sigmund said gravely. "Yours was the only serious injury." His face hardened. "You acted without thought. You allowed your emotion to cloud your actions, and for it you nearly earned a fresh grave. You swore a promise to me, and in your lapse of self control in the fight with Gabrielle you nearly broke it."

It wasn't the first time he'd ever been scolded for being thoughtless, but somehow it hurt more than any other time. "I'm sorry."

"Apologies will not save you if you act so carelessly again, and neither will Kiriya. We have not the supplies to do what he did twice. You must be able to hold onto reason during the fight. You were fortunate this time – I do not know where you summoned the strength to slay Gabriel but-"

Capell's eyes bulged. _What?_

"_I_ killed him?"

Sigmund paused and watched his son for a moment. "You do not remember?" When Capell shook his head, Sigmund sighed. "Then you were in worse condition than we had feared. Yes, you brought the demon to his end. With the injuries you sustained it should not have been possible; most men will never possess the amount of luck in their life that you had at that moment. You must control yourself in battle, no matter what tactic the enemy uses against you."

"Could you have done any better?" Capell blurted. It was half accusation and half earnest question. Capell suspected Sigmund's answer would be yes. "If Gabrielle looked exactly like my mother let's say, would you have acted any different?" The cool stare from those red eyes didn't change as Capell waited for his answer.

"I do not know," Sigmund admitted at last and to Capell's surprise. "Perhaps; perhaps not. But as the situation currently pertains to you, it is you who must remember something: a man's valor is a powerful thing. It can save those he loves – but it can also kill the man if it overpowers him." Sigmund glanced away to the fire for a moment and when his gaze came back his expression was composed once more. "Fight for those you can protect; to fight for those you have already lost is a wasted effort and a waste of a good life."

Capell stared blankly through the wall beyond his father. What his father said had made sense, even though it hurt. It hurt because it only compounded his failure. "It was my fault they died," he admitted at last, "Faina and Leif. They died because I couldn't protect them."

Sigmund seemed taken aback for a moment. Capell didn't say anything. It didn't really matter if he agreed or not – Sigmund's opinion couldn't change the past, after all.

"If that is the case," Sigmund said in a quieter tone, "then you and I are responsible for the deaths of thousands. Perhaps more. Every man, woman and child that died as a result of the Order's chains is on our heads." Capell blinked and met his father's gaze with quiet surprise. "We are the Liberators of the world," Sigmund continued, "and we failed every person who died or underwent vermification. If you will bear responsibility for the deaths of the boy and his sister, you must also be willing to accept the weight for the deaths of all of those whose names and faces you do not know. You must also be able to hold me accountable my failures as a protector, which preceded yours."

Capell opened his mouth as if to respond, but no words came out.

Luckily, Sigmund did not wait for the answer.

"You cannot be blamed for their deaths, Capell. You are only one man, as am I. We cannot be everywhere at once. The blame falls on those whose blades delivered the death blows, and on those whose actions brought about such devastation. That Leif and Faina were your friends adds nothing to the guilt on your shoulders; only the pain in your heart."

It made sense. Maybe in another life Capell could have believed his father.

"So now we have even more in common than we thought," He said after a moment. "We've each been told that we are guilt free; that we're good men who did the best we could. But you and I will never stop punishing ourselves for the deaths we have been told were not our faults. My mother's death will haunt you for the rest of your life, just like Faina's and Leif's will haunt me for the rest of mine."

He watched Sigmund swallow hard, though his father's expression remained unruffled.

"We will carry on this conversation later," the elder replied at last, "rest for now. The road ahead is still a long one."

XXXX

By their sleep schedules and the meals they had taken, Capell guessed their time within the makeshift sanctuary to be two days. Two days for the queen to draw closer to them. Two days for more of the beasts to escape the Gate and invade their home.

The pain in his shoulder was still missing, but he couldn't imagine the effect as permanent. If he was going to fight to the best of his ability then it would have to be soon – before the symptoms of his injuries came back and made movement all but impossible.

His friends were gathered around the fire, talking quietly in an effort to lighten the mood. Capell rose from his place and left the circle, retrieving his armor from the steps that lead up to the throne room. Heads swiveled to watch as he began pulling on piece after piece of the raiment. He heard Aya's deep breath and the scrape of metal against stone. Balbagon stood and hefted his axe onto his shoulder once more.

"We're goin' boss?" The gruff man's voice seemed as out of place as laughter in a tomb. Capell nodded.

"We came here for a reason. We can't sit here hiding from reality anymore."

"Who said anything about hiding?" Aya bristled. "I thought we were waiting until you were healed."

Capell met her stare. "We all know that we can't wait that long." Aya's face twisted but before she could launch into an argument Capell cut her off. "How many days will it take for me to recover completely, Kiriya?" Capell asked as he reached behind his neck to fasten another buckle. "Honestly."

"Days?" Kiriya shook his head. "To completely mend from that wound you will need at least three weeks. Three weeks of minimal movement; the more you use your shoulder, the longer it will take. To fight again at full strength without danger? No less than two months."

"Time we don't have." Capell said.

"What are his limitations currently?" Sigmund addressed the healer next without taking his eyes from his son. "I am assuming it is not safe for him to wield a sword."

"Oh I'm sure he thinks he can." Dominica broke in caustically. "And maybe he'll be able to land a couple of powerful blows before he tears open his shoulder again and bleeds to death."

"Then let's quit now." Capell barked loudly and gestured to the way they had come. "Let's leave and go back home. I'm sure the queen will wait a few months for me to recover before she comes for us. And the armies of Kolton have done a great job killing off monsters on their own without many casualties. They'll have no problem when two or three monsters in the city become two or three hundred. Right? _Right?!"_

His derision was answered only by stunned faces and silence.

"Don't you think I know the danger of fighting like this?" Capell's voice rose frantically, waving his hand before his injured shoulder wildly. "Don't you think that I'm aware of what will probably happen? But tell me what other option we have. Should I leave and let you handle it without me? When you admitted to me yourselves that you couldn't even defeat Sigmund without me?! Tell me what we can do to avoid this – because I really don't want to die here!"

Capell clamped his mouth shut and drew a hand down his face in an effort to regain his composure. He could feel his eyes burning and he didn't want to cry in front of everyone. Not anymore.

He was the Liberator. He was more than a symbol to the people, and though he had stolen the title from his father at first, he had quickly earned the right to bear it as his own. He had spilled enough blood, both his and the enemy's, to prove that being the Liberator was more than being a figurehead. It meant taking action where others would not or could not.

He had also been born with his father's strength and glyphless – a combination that had made him the perfect weapon to fight the Order and their chains. The world had even given him another title to reflect this.

He was the Blade of the Unblessed.

And now that Veros and the Lunaglyphs were gone, _everyone_ was an Unblessed.

And that meant he would fight to protect everyone. And he would do it without tears; because that's what heroes did.

But that didn't mean he couldn't ache for the future he was probably letting go of. Marriage, a family, plans to restore his homeland. It wasn't fair that he was probably going to have to trade away a life he desperately wanted in order to do what was right.

Just as his father had done before him.

"I didn't mean any insult," Capell said after a few deep breaths, "there's a reason we're called the Liberation _Force_. Every person here is a powerful fighter – much stronger than the average soldier. But you told me in Burgusstadt that you, the most renowned warriors in the world, couldn't defeat Sigmund without me. And Sigmund was no match for the Ethereal Queen on his own. I understand the dangers in facing the queen the way I am, but what choice do we have? I don't know how I became the strongest of our group – but if any of you were in my position would you just walk away?"

"Of course we wouldn't." Kiriya scoffed and folded his arms across his chest, casting a cool look over his shoulder at the other. "They know it as well as you do. The only difference is they-" he waived an arrogant hand towards those still standing around the fire, "saw you die once already. They don't have the stomach for it again."

"Yer damn right we don't!" Vic's face stained scarlet and twisted in anger, "And if ya can look at my buddy and tell him it's okay for him to go and fight and probably die again, then yer as much of a monster as the things we've been killing!"

"Vic!" Capell felt vertigo slide through his head briefly. He had died. Really died; it hadn't just been a close call. "Enough arguing. There's no point. I'm going on because I have to; because everyone knows it's the only way. Why else would I have been given so many potions that I can't feel any pain – I haven't since I woke up." Aya flinched as though she'd been slapped; Capell guessed she had played a part in that. "This was always optional for the rest of you – if you want to walk away now you can. You helped get us this far, and that's good enough for me."

"What do you mean 'optional'?" Edward stepped forward, his dark eyes flashing. "Don't tell me you think that we can just walk away from this and from you. You don't really believe any of us would just abandon you like that? Do you? You're our leader."

"We follow you, Capell," Eugene added, "we always will."

"I told you I'd fight for you," Aya said softly, "and I meant it. I won't let you die." Her voice trailed to a whisper with her final statement, but Capell could see that she meant it.

"None of us will." Edward agreed in a much more confident voice.

"Then no more arguing?" Capell raked his gaze over the group of people he cared most for in the world. "No more telling me not to go on?" Dominica was the first to sigh and give a curt nod of her head. Balbagon grunted and the rest followed suit, until the only one who had not agreed to Capell's conditions was his father. Capell clapped a hand onto Sigmund's shoulder, looking him evenly in the eyes.

"I know the only reason you're not agreeing is because I'm your son." Capell said. "I thought about what you said earlier, that we're only singular men. You're right, there's only so much we can do. But shouldn't we do all we can to save our home? You once believed that when you held the title of Liberator. Believe it again with me. Believe _in_ me."

Sigmund pulled from his son's grip and walked from the group, stopping just a few steps away. Capell watched his father's back for a second before tightening his jaw and turning to the teleporter that would take them to Graad Woods.

"I have always believed in you," Sigmund said quietly and Capell twisted to find his father still had his back to them. "Even when I could not believe in myself, from the moment you were born, I have believed in you."

'_This boy shall be courageous and kind. He will be called Capell.'_

Capell remembered Iskan's confession in the Underwater Palace. The truth of Sigmund's words had been embroidered on a swaddling cloth twenty years ago.

"You knew when I was born who I would be. And so you know now that I can't walk away."

Sigmund's shoulders hunched slightly, his head dipped. From the corner of his eyes, Capell notice Edward and Aya each take a step back. Sigmund had never exhibited such a vulnerable emotion before. It was hard for them to watch.

"I do." His father's voice was unbroken, but softer.

Capell walked to his father's back slowly and placed a gentle hand once more on his father's shoulder.

"Come with me, father?"

The former king's posture straightened and his head rose high once more. With the brisk air of someone in complete control of himself, Sigmund turned and faced his son, an iron grip finding Capell's good arm. The faintest hint of emotion clouded those crimson irises, but it was covered by steel resolve instantly.

"To the end and beyond, my son."

XXXX

Though none had asked him, or even hinted to him the idea, Capell hung back through Graad Woods to conserve his strength and save his friends some anxiety, letting the others slay the snarling monsters that emerged from the normally bright and pleasant forest. His sword remained sheathed; though his fingers twitched at the hilt whenever there were enemies to take down. He physically felt great, better than he had in weeks, but it was only because of Kiriya's potion. Capell knew that he'd probably never been in worse shape than he was now.

A group of larva were swarming Eugene. The former priest's nimble movements pulverized each creature with a disgusting noise beneath his staff. The quiet man's mouth twisted and he wiped the end of his weapon through the longer grass to clean it of the foul liquid that coated the metal tipped ends.

Aya's arrows whistled ahead and something howled. A garm charged out of the trees, an arrow lodged in his right eye socket. Four more arrows and the canine fell to the ground before it reached Balbagon at the fore. The great man looked slightly disappointed at the lack of combat.

Though they carried themselves confidently, it was easy to feel the tension in the air. Eyes were brighter and more alert; weapons rarely found their way back into sheaths. The randomly attacking creatures were dispatched quickly to avoid distraction. The other members of the Force had the same thought bouncing within their heads, it seemed. With every corner they rounded, every new level they entered, Capell found himself holding his breath for that first heartbeat.

Would the queen be there? Had she come for them like Gabriel had? He had nearly jumped out of his skin and then melted with relief when the thing in Dragonbone Shrine turned out to be only a powerful creature and not the false god. It had taken every bit of restraint he had possessed to hang back and not join in that battle. He had to remind himself that his strength was borrowed, and he needed every bit of it to use against the queen. Not this Seaspawn.

He began to wonder what surprise she had in store for them. Gabriel had taken on Leif's form to throw them off. What would the queen do to gain an advantage?

Or maybe she wouldn't even bother. Maybe she was so far beyond them that tricks wouldn't even be needed. Capell shook the thought from his head physically. Thinking like that was close to giving up, and he couldn't do that.

The teleporter that at last took them to the False Halgita dimmed and Capell found that his flute was called for even if his sword was not. The distraction from his dark thoughts was welcomed even if it was dangerous.

The cloned Order sorceresses were calling forth Geocrush at a staggering rate, more than any true human could have summoned forth. Prudentiae was needed to constantly negate the effect. The spells would dissipate within the range of the flute's music and it was within that circle that his teammates stayed and fought – it would have been suicide to move beyond Capell's song.

They followed the stairs slowly, though the corridors were wide by any building's standards, they were still too narrow to avoid combat. There was no conserving energy here. The whistle and whine of metal and wood speeding through the warm air made it hard to hear the flute. But it didn't matter if the song could be heard – as long as he played they were safe from the bone crushing conjurations.

A forest rachnuvus snapped deadly mandibles and Capell sidestepped, narrowly avoiding losing a leg. A great sword hummed and Edward's blade decapitated the spider in one blow.

"Are you all right?" Edward paused to look his friend over; Capell dared not pull the instrument from his lips to answer. The Burguss King found his answer on his own, though. Patting the Cassandran King on the arm, he returned to the fight.

"Don't worry, Capell," Rico chimed up from behind Capell, "we're here now. We'll cover your back." Capell turned his head to peer at the eager twins who had moved in close to him and gave them a friendly wink. Rucha's Aerry swooped low at a sorceress just beyond Capell's protection while Rico turned an arachnid against a drogo chief, grinning at the experience of controlling the big bug.

At the base of the stairs in the large open area stood the most imposing gigas Capell had ever laid eyes on, flanked by two narbears that looked almost rabid. Lowering his flute, Capell caught the attention of the others and motioned them away from the menacing trio. The beasts didn't seem to have noticed them and, as long as they weren't obvious, Capell was confident they could slip away unseen.

At last, a major fight that could be avoided.

The doors to the former chapel swung open and Capell groaned at their bad luck.

A man wielding a sword more massive than Dominica or Edward stood waiting patiently. His uniform bespoke a high ranking member of the Order, but Capell didn't remember fighting this person previously.

"Grymon," Sigmund said with slight surprise.

"You know him?" Capell's fingers pressed tightly to his sword, ready to pull the blade free as the waiting man eyed them like a predator.

"A former night of Cassandra," his father revealed, "one of the youngest, and the most eager." Sigmund's tone took on a hint of disgust. "I must admit, it does not surprise me to see him here. I never approved of his promotion within the ranks. He was clearly interested only in his own success and not that of the kingdom. That he came with Iskan's recommendation was the only reason he was allowed such a position."

"Not much of a selling point in my opinion," Capell muttered and jolted when Simorgh Zal exploded above Grymon, Aya pulling no punches with this knight.

"This fight is not for you," Sigmund said softly to his son, raising his sword behind him, "yours waits beyond that teleporter." The stone pedestal behind their enemy was cold and dark, but Capell knew that was the way as much as Sigmund did. "Wait for us, Capell." Sigmund cautioned before he rushed forward, Reginleif answering his command.

Capell swore softly under his breath and pulled out his flute to offer what help he was able. Dominica and Balbagon had rounded to Grymon's back and Komachi was now standing pointedly between Capell and the battle, Hornbeam giving only a moment's notice for her comrades to move aside before it struck the knight forcibly. The Order knight's blade deflected the attack, and within the same fluid movement Grymon was raising the massive weapon up as though it were a twig, swinging it before him, intent in cleaving a path through his enemies. The Force bowed back out of range and filled the gap like water in a bowl, surrounding the man, pinning the turncoat with attacks that varied in power in technique.

Capell heard the commotion of an attack he didn't recognize. A blast of energy, so powerful it was clearly visible, opened a corridor among his friends wide enough for a gigas. Vic rolled clear of the attack before launching back in with a guttural growl. Balbagon's elbow and hip were bleeding, but the man lifted his great axe and rejoined his friends without pause.

The knight wasn't using magic; Capell's protection was useless here. He could either strengthen his friends' defense or attacks, but at the expense of the other. The sword seemed to grow heavier and heavier at his hip; a burden that only fighting would free him from. He swallowed hard and ground his teeth. If watching them fight smaller beasts had been hard, watching them face a knight without him was torture.

But this time he had been asked not to fight. Sigmund had told him to wait behind. And he knew that his father was right. His fight lay ahead with the enemy they couldn't fight alone.

Dragonic Hail was followed by a cry from the knight and Capell felt his heart surge when he saw blood began to seep down Grymon's forehead from his scalp. Though his friends were taking on fresh injuries they were still winning. The Order knight spun free of Balbagon's swing, his sword clashing against Eugene's staff, disarming the priest with a twist of the blade.

The traitor's raptor gaze found Capell and Grymon's face split into a malicious grin.

"Liberator," he grated and Capell's hand fell to the Emblazoned Sword as Grymon cleared a path through his friends once more with Heraldic Edge and then followed it to his quarry. Capell wrist and elbow flicked, drawing the Emblazoned Sword free in a flash of reflected light.

And then he was bodily pulled from Grymon's path at the last moment, and mixed into a confused tangle with another. In the flurry of motion he caught sight of his rescuer, Sigmund, who was jerking the ornate circlet from his head and pulled Capell's flute from his belt.

Alucinari answered Sigmund as certainly as it would have Capell and three identical men now stood before the knight, swords drawn and waiting.

"Which one is the bomb?!" Vic's cry brought a wide-eyed reaction from Grymon, who hesitated in his offense suddenly aware of the true danger he faced. Capell couldn't tell which of the two beside him was his father but knew that if he ran for cover it would give him away immediately. It would also leave Sigmund alone with the weapon he had summoned, but did not know well enough to escape on his own. Sigmund would certainly try to stand his ground to maintain the ruse that shielded Capell until the explosive doppelganger killed him.

Capell would not let that happen.

"My Lords, please get away!" Komachi's fist was at her chest, but the three men stood their ground, watching the knight. More cries of alarm, rose from their friends, each bringing a nervous reaction from their enemy. Yet none of the Liberators moved. The clone would not focus on anything but the enemy as that was its purpose; Capell knew that he and Sigmund had to play their parts as well. Grymon studied them for the instant they watched him, seeming to try to judge which of the three men was actually the weapon called forth against him. His eyes ticked from face to face, searching. Blood trickled down the bridge of his nose.

_Not much longer…_

"Capell!" Aya cried in panic and was only kept back by Dominica's grasp on her arm, though the Emir fought to free herself. She cried out his name again, twisting her arm against Dominica, trying to get to Capell, though she clearly had no idea which man was her beloved.

Capell ignored her with difficulty and counted down the time he knew they had left. The fuse for the bomb was always the same, and Capell knew how much time they had by heart now. Grymon's sword seemed to swing in slow motion, the knight having obviously decided on his next course of action.

The man directly beside Capell moved at the same instant Capell lurched forward – the precise moment the bomb would move in for its final attack. The third, Sigmund, followed suit so closely that only the one person who knew the precise timing of Alucinari noticed. Capell found his father if no one else had.

The three Liberators charged for Grymon simultaneously, swords all lifted in identical fighting stances. The great sword wielded by their enemy sped around; readying his attack and the knight took his first running step forward.

"Get back!" Edward bellowed and with a wide sweep of his arm he hefted Michelle onto his shoulder and ran. The Force dispersed, not sparing a backward glance at the battlefield.

"_NOW!" _Capell screamed and watched as his father threw himself aside; as the clone that had run beside him pitched itself at the knight. Capell turned in his flat-out run so sharply that his feet slid out from beneath him. When he hit the floor Capell flung himself into a barrel roll away from what he knew was coming. Heat and pressure followed him; though he was not aware of the sound of the explosion, only the blood pounding in his ears. He found himself pushed along not of his own momentum but rolled like a ball by the force of the blast that followed him. He tucked himself in as tightly as he could, protecting his damaged shoulder with his good arm. Heat tightened his skin.

And just as quickly the force of the blast died away. The air around him cooled and he slid to a stop, his armor squealing along the stone floor. Capell raised his head to the direction he had come from. Pyrool fell upon Grymon before the smoke had even cleared, driven on by its mistress's previous intent. The knight's screams were followed by Aya's as she released Simorgh Zal once more. There would be no mercy; no hesitating.

And then there was silence.

Capell lay where he had landed and watched, waiting for the knight to rise to his feet. Waiting for the fight to resume.

But nothing happened.

He groaned and let his head fall down onto his forearm, relief washing over him.

"Capell!?" The alarm in Edward's voice was clear and the Liberator raised his good arm.

"I'm all right." He called and pushed himself to his feet, pulling aside his armor and peering into the crevices to make sure he wasn't wrong. He still couldn't feel pain so he had to look to be certain. No blood, no burns. A few dents in his armor, but other than that he was okay. He sighed with relief – thanking the luck that he should have run out of for staying with him just a little longer.

His eyes darted across the room to find Sigmund was on his feet as well, sheathing his sword. Capell wiped a hand down his face and walked slowly over to his father. The floor was blackened through the blast zone, and Capell kept his eyes averted from the body of the fallen knight as he passed.

"Forgive me," Sigmund said, bending low to retrieve the instrument and sword for his son, "he fixated on you-"

"Stop," Capell held up a hand, closing his eyes wearily, "apologizing. You're beginning to sound like me. I'm not mad. It was a good plan. Crazy and slightly stupid, but a good plan."

Sigmund cocked an eyebrow. "Stupid?" It sounded like a dare and Capell smiled despite his nerves, even if it was only half hearted.

"Yes, stupid – just like something I would do. Did I inherit _anything_ from my mother?" Sigmund grunted, but behind the mask Capell knew he could see amusement. The reaction goaded the younger man on.

"You know," he whispered, "someday you're going to have to loosen up a little. Grandkids don't like to bounce on the knees of grouchy old men." Sigmund's eyes flashed brightly, though his facade remained.

"If you promise to give me grandchildren," Sigmund said quietly, "I will promise to… loosen up." Capell felt the noose tighten and he succeeded in keeping his eyes from flicking to the teleporter. He regretted his words if only because they hinted at a future he couldn't guarantee.

More than anything he wanted to say those two words. More than anything he wanted to say it and mean it. Why did he have to disappoint the ones he loved again?

"When this is over," he said at last. The stone returned to his father's eyes and Capell felt his heart sink. Sigmund pressed the Emblazoned Sword into Capell's hands.

"Then let us finish it."

XXXX

A palace unlike any he had seen before, Sigmund had said.

But Capell knew this place; he knew it better than any place in their world. He could tell you how many stones blocks made up the walls in the main entryway, how many steps it took to walk from the throne room to the teleporter, and where to find those strange little mice the fastest. His stomach flipped and his throat tightened as though he were about to be sick.

"The Lunar Palace," he murmured. His prison for two years. It even smelled the same here – he would never forget the sterile, metallic scent of this place. More beautiful than any building man could build; but colder than the meanest prison. Capell shivered.

"She _would_ choose this place." He muttered and swallowed the lump in his throat. Aya was beside him, her fingers twining with his, nearly cutting the circulation off in his fingers for how tightly she held on. Seeing this place clearly brought back unpleasant memories for her, too. Capell squeezed her hand reassuringly before releasing it to draw his sword. The ring of steel echoed just as he remembered within these walls. If it weren't for the strange bands of colored light hanging in the sky, Capell might have thought they had actually returned to the moon.

"There's no sense in waiting." He said quickly. He could feel something of his old life returning; the desire to run far and fast and not look back. It was seeping into him, making his legs tingle. Here was more than a hated prison for him – it could also be the last place he ever sets eyes on. He didn't want to die here. He didn't want this to be where he took his final breath.

_Anywhere but here. _

Against every instinct and desire within him, Capell stepped further into the palace.

"Let's get this over with."

XXXX

**A/N**

**Don't you love it when an idea just clicks in your head. I was trying and trying for waaay too long to get the plot for this chapter down when I realized yesterday (finally) that the entire chapter I had down was trash! So I scrapped it and sat here staring at a blank page on my computer screen as it SCREAMED at me to put words on it. Then it hit me – thwap! I'm pleased with how it went and pleased with the fact that I came out of my slump again. I waited one more day to proof read and make sure I liked it enough before posting it. Sorry for the delay!**

**Syeriox, Imortal and Adolthered – thank you for the raves! Sometimes the old writing engine just needs a kick-start and you gave that to me with your kind words. When I know people really like what they're reading it reminds me why I'm wracking my brain. **

**Thanks everyone!**


	7. Enter Finale

**Okay, so it took me long enough, but hopefully you checked out my homepage (link is on my profile) for updates on what the hold-up was. If not you should read it – I post my grand schemes and progress there for all to read.**

**And now, just as I promised, I give you Chapter 7. **

**I really hope it was worth the wait… **

Chapter 7: Enter Finale

More real to her than the sound of their footsteps, the echoes of previous struggles crowded Aya's mind the moment they crossed the massive threshold. The resonance of Capell shouting orders to their fellows; the deafening raucous of magic crashing against magic and metal against metal; the thunder of a god's voice as he berated and attacked those she held dearest. It drowned out everything, surrounding her only in the terrifying memory of what it had been to fight a god.

True, they had won that battle. After such a long struggle they had defeated a god and come out alive and well – it should have buoyed her. But now, for the first time in years, she remember how exceedingly difficult that fight had been. It had dragged on for an eternity, longer than any battle they had ever entered into. There were times she had doubted if they had the strength and reserves to defeat Veros. There were moments she had wondered if escape would save them even if they tried – if Veros would allow them to get away safely. The members of the Liberation Force had each fallen to the false god at one point or another, only to be brought back by a healing Lunaglyph.

Now there were no Lunaglyphs to revive them as before, or to aid them in their offensive. And although they were stronger than the last great battle, their new opponent was also more powerful. The queen of the gods; one who had been able to dominate Veros and force him to take on the responsibility of an entire world.

Now Capell was coming into the battle already bearing brutal injuries that would normally pull him from combat for months. The healers had agreed, Capell could not fight as he normally would, and yet that was his intent. Years ago she had attempted the same thing, and had only survived because Capell had sought the help of a Claridian.

Saruleus was not here this time.

Aya's fingers found her lover's without thought. She held tight to him and yet, though he was returning the pressure of her hand with equal intensity, she could already feel him slipping away.

XXXX

For his part, Capell couldn't help but pause again once they entered the palace, and of course none tried to speed him along. He was pretty sure that if he suggested turning around and going back there would be a few who would happily pull him out of the palace and back to the teleporter. But Capell stood fast and resisted the urge. There was no point. He could go home and watch countless people die when the queen came for his friends, or he could stay and…

He chased the thought away. What was the point in thinking about it? It wasn't like he was going to change his mind.

Kiriya slipped in beside the Liberator and Capell was handed a vial containing the last of the concoction they had used to stave off the pain of his injuries.

Kiriya had saved the last dose for this moment; to ensure that when Capell fought it would be at full capability. Without hesitating Capell downed the last of the mixture. He had not begun to feel even the hint of discomfort, but he couldn't take any chances. He decided he hated the elixir. It also dulled the feeling of Aya's hand in his, the ability to feel pain and to protect himself from death, the feeling of heat and cold against his face – very normal sensations that reminded him that he was alive. Yet he couldn't fault Kiriya; the man had saved his life once already.

"Thank you," he murmured. It was heartfelt, and the healer lost some of his abrasiveness. Kiriya, for all of his callousness and unforgiving commentaries, had never once tried to force Capell into anything that went against his nature. It had always been Capell's choice – with Kiriya supplying the truth for him as he needed it, unedited and straight forward, if slightly brutal in its accuracy. Though the man could be heartless thought and word, he also respected Capell enough to abide by his choices, whatever choices those might be.

With a slight bob of his head, Kiriya accepted the gratitude of a king before slipping back into the crowd.

Capell found there was more he wanted to say – and not just to Kiriya. He wanted to thank Edward for understanding him when he couldn't even understand himself; Aya for loving him despite his faults; Michelle for always giving him an open ear and a warm embrace; the twins for making him laugh when he really wanted to cry. He wanted to say so much. He hadn't had the chance last time.

"I… uh…" he rubbed the back of his head thoughtfully, turning to his friends – his family. If he was going to say anything it would have to be now. "Look you guys. I know I've been pretty moody lately, and that I've been really hard to be around, and… I'm sorry."

"Again with the apologies?" Dominica crossed her arms beneath her breasts and looked at him from down her nose. "You have lousy timing, kid."

"I know, I know," Capell waved her off, "but… but this is the last quiet moment we'll have before the fighting. So I just want to-"

"No Capell," Michelle said softly, "don't do that. Don't say goodbye." Rucha and Rico each looked at him with wide eyes.

"Goodbye? You're not thinking of fighting the queen alone, are you?" Rucha asked.

"No," Aya shook her head, "no that's not it. You're not going to die, we won't let that happen. We made you a promise, Capell."

"I know you did," Capell said carefully, "but protecting me can't be your first priority. You have to focus on beating the queen – okay? We came here to put a stop to her, she poses a danger to the entire world, not just us. If we don't go in here with that in our minds then we came here for nothing."

"I hate to admit it, but… he's right." Eugene pushed his glasses up with a slender finger. "The best thing we can do to protect Capell is to defeat the queen quickly. Otherwise Capell will be fighting her until the emergency supplies are gone and we've all thrown ourselves on her blade to save him."

"Exactly," Capell said. "Even if I can't kill her myself, if I can wear her down enough for you guys to finish her off then it'll be worth it."

"How can you say that?!" Aya's face flushed in anger and she latched onto his arm. "How can you say that your life is worth throwing away?"

"To save innocent lives? Thousands?! More? It is worth it! _You_ taught me that Aya!" Capell pulled from her grip to stare at her incredulously. "When we first met you were willing to die to protect Sigmund and the cause. And not only you. Each member of this group would have given their lives in a heartbeat for the greater good. Well now it's my turn, even if I don't want it to be. I'm not going to back down."

Aya's face screwed up and she balled her fists obstinately. She was in full tirade stance and not even a false god could pull her from her rage now. "No! It's not _fair_! I've only just gotten you back! After two years you're here with me again! I can't lose you again, Capell! Not again! You asked me to marry you! We have a future together!" Capell's excitement cooled, he understood exactly what she was saying. He found himself unable to find the response that would comfort her.

"I'm sorry." Old habits…

"Don't say you're sorry!" Aya shoved his chest. "Don't you say that! Say you'll live! Say you'll still be here when this is over. Say it! _Say it Capell_!" Each command was accompanied with a shove to his chest and Edward was quickly behind her, holding her arms down in a tight embrace, pulling her back.

"Enough, Aya! Enough! You're not going to change his mind like this!" The fury drained out of her, replaced by an emotional vulnerability she rarely displayed. Capell would have preferred the anger.

"Why?" She whispered, "why can't we just be together? What did we do to deserve this?"

Capell turned from her. What had they done? They had killed a god. True, Veros had intended mankind's annihilation, but it changed nothing. They had destroyed a god – had they really been naïve enough to believe it would all end there? Happily ever after, like in the stories?

Nothing he could say could make things better. Nothing he could do could guarantee that he'd come out of this alive. Any promise he made to her would be a lie. To save her life he had to break her trust.

Aya was right, it wasn't fair.

But it was reality.

"I'm sorry," he whispered so softly it was barely heard.

The Emblazoned Sword's song pierced the silence and Capell was hurrying down the corridor into the palace.

Win or lose, he was going to give Aya the absolution she needed. Only the footfalls behind him told him that he was not alone.

XXXX

It was so quiet.

Amber eyes opened slowly, greeted by dim light and stillness. It was peaceful, tranquil and smelled pleasantly of mixed flowers and bathing oils. The sheets covering his bare arms were warm and soft, his skin clean, his face freshly shaven and tingling with the tonic used to stave off the razor's burn. A fire crackled cheerfully across the room in the large fireplace, warming the chamber pleasantly. Gentle breathing from beyond screened partitions at either side of his bed told him others slept nearby.

And yet in a room that had been arranged to nurture serenity and rest, he could not escape the feeling that something was gravely wrong. It plagued him; an insight just out of reach. He needed to tell someone… anyone. It was too important to ignore, this knowing he could not explain.

Fatigue was still dominant above all other thoughts or troubles, however. Lids too heavy to support any longer slid closed and, for the first time in years, Touma dreamt.

Dreams of dark shapes and dangers he could not place, and yet knew too well to dismiss as fantasy.

XXXX

Capell seemed unperturbed by the figure blocking their path; almost as if he had expected this all along. Despite his usual calm demeanor, his rational that could carry him through any scenario, Sigmund felt his blood boiling within his veins.

"Leonid," he hissed, unaware he had spoken the name aloud.

Never in his life, not even when he fought with Leonid prior to the events at Vesplume Tower, had Sigmund ever hated someone. He had simply understood the danger Leonid and his Order posed, and had volunteered to neutralize the threat personally. It had not been about vengeance, or the awkward relationship the two had shared in their youth. It had been solely about preserving the safety of humanity.

He had never known hate until two years ago.

"He is sending for me," The Dread Knight had purred then from atop the false Vesplume Tower, where he and Sigmund had emerged after disappearing from their true world. "My duty to him is not yet fulfilled. You will not be accompanying me." Sigmund had already expected as much. But the words that followed next, while also predictable, struck a chord he had not been prepared for.

"I am afraid your friends will not be permitted to witness the rebirth of the world. Their executions have been ordered." A smile as smooth and repulsive as eel skin had spread over the former prince's charming face. "Your shadow, he is your son, is he?" Sigmund had felt his breath catch in his throat and Leonid's smile had spread like oil. "A glimpse I gained from touching you while wielding the great power. I understand now the value you placed in him. Your son… he had such potential. I understand he can cut chains as you did. Remarkable.

"Regrettably, he is to be the first to fall at my hands. It is a shame his combat skills are so immature. His death will be pathetically easy to carry out at this point, I believe."

Leonid had vanished in a bright flare of light before Sigmund had had a chance to strike, the knowledge that he was no longer present to protect his son prevalent within his thoughts. Capell was in danger, and not just the nameless danger of war. His death had been ordered – the first to fall under the order's blade. Leonid was taking great joy in the idea of destroying his son, Sigmund knew. There would be no mercy in Capell's death if Leonid reached him first.

At that moment, for the first time in his life, hatred had blossomed within Sigmund white hot and all consuming.

And now the treacherous monster stood before him again, jeering as though he still held Capell's life within his grasp.

"A copy," Capell's voice held the composure Sigmund normally maintained. "The real Leonid is dead; I sealed his body in a small room of the real Lunar Sanctuary." Sigmund's sword screamed free, giving a voice to the emotions its master would not proclaim. An instant later Capell was between his father and the sickening grin of their former foe.

Leonid giggled madly, anticipation radiating from him as clearly as the madness he had died with.

"It's not Leonid!"

"Step aside."

"Wait! I made a mistake with Gabriel," Capell did not budge, instead catching and holding his father's icy stare.

"Step aside Capell." It was now more of a warning than a request.

"Listen to me!" Capell's voice rose urgently. They may not have any time – Leonid's doppelganger would not wait for them to engage. "I let my emotions get the best of me. You couldn't answer me when I asked if you could do better. It's time for your answer."

"I will be reborn…" The high-pitch whisper from behind told Capell they were out of time. Sigmund's glare fell upon his quarry with such intensity it could have drawn blood on its own. Capell's jaw tightened.

"I'll fight Leonid if you can't control yourself," he announced, stepping aside and giving Sigmund a clear path to Leonid, "One of us has to survive this place, and… and I'm already…"

Though his mask did not change, there was a hesitation to Sigmund's movements. Something within him had quieted – slightly. His attention fell back onto Capell, the fire in his gaze fizzling. "I swore I would protect you with my life."

"Then make sure you stay in control in this fight." Capell pointedly slid the Emblazoned Sword back into its sheath. "And I won't have to get involved."

Sigmund's raptor glare turned back to their antagonist – still giggling fanatically.

"The power of a god… I was promised…" like a monster pulled from a story he lurched towards the Force.

Chains of crimson and black streaked from Leonid's cloak, unfurling to seemingly endless lengths. Edges as sharp as razors shredded the fabric of the garment, barely raising a hiss as they passed through the air. Shouts erupted from the human combatants and they fanned out, taking up the offensive with perfect synchronization.

Sigmund spun with the regal grace of his station, his sword moving as fluidly as though it had always been a part of him. An arcing upsweep of the blade, and the chains fell at his feet. The former Liberator paused – he had not been able to slice through a chain since…

Of course, the glyphs had been extinguished!

Leonid's mad glee evaporated, the giggles becoming a pathetic whine. His lips trembled pitifully. "The Crimson One promised…" Chains lashed out chaotically, striking brickwork and polished floors more often than human targets. "The power of the divine… immortality…"

"Your Crimson One is dead." Edward announced contemptibly and entered the fray.

"Lies!" It was more panic than conviction, but the intensity of his next attack told his enemies that he was by no means weakened from fear. Members of the force dodged as a barrage of chains unlike anything Leonid had ever brandished before, and then darted in between the links, unleashing violence of their own. Metal clashed against metal, links shattering on impact with any number of different weapons. Though they were far more fragile than before, Leonid seemed able to summon an insurmountable number of the knife-edged chains, making it difficult to draw close to him for a successful direct attack.

Aya stepped back, lining up her aim at the deranged clone and an armored hand gripped her shoulder tightly.

"Be careful not to take too many injuries," Capell spoke when she flinched and tried to round on him, "it's just like before – we're not going to have a chance to rest after this."

"How do you know?"

"I… just do." Aya didn't argue with his fatalistic opinion. She nodded gravely and moved back into the fighting, leaning into to speak to Michelle as she passed.

Leonid's cry echoed from the din as VIIth Violation jutted forth, catching a few off guard, though thankfully none had managed to draw close enough to have been in mortal danger. Edward and Dominica managed to slice their way through the tangle of chains, giving Sigmund a clear path to Leonid. Capell's teeth ground painfully as he watched his father embroil with his greatest foe once more.

A tendril of chains snapped before him, and Sigmund paused long enough to cut them down, clearing his path once more.

_Leonid…_

The elder Cassandran twisted his blade and stepped under another fall of razor links, his blade colliding with armor-backed gauntlets. The thing that mimicked Svala's lost son licked its lips in revolting excitement.

Komachi slipped into the brawl easily, finding a chink in Leonid's defenses and exploiting it with rapid strikes of her daggers. Before Leonid reacted to her presence, Komachi had sliced at him repeatedly and then flittered back, dancing through the chains that pursued with ease.

Edward was not so fleet of foot, and when XIIIth Word burst forth violently, the Burguss king suffered a series of long slices to his shoulder; his chest and face saved only by the blade he held before him like a shield. Edward's outcry was met by another hysterical giggle from their tormentor. A few other cries of surprise and pain arose; Rico and Dominica had also failed to escape the lashing and had each earned deep gashes across their backs and arms as they attempted to flee. Rucha was already weeping at her brother's injuries, though the boy remained brave.

_Leonid..._

Sigmund pushed himself in closer, his shoulders tensing; blade flashing in the dim light as he struck out without mercy. Ebony and crimson links never stopped moving, never stopped coming. Leonid had once relished using Veros's chains to inflict pain, but now he seemed incapable of acting without the tangle of metal. Magic no longer danced at his fingertips, only the chains obeyed him now. His eyes sparkled with insane pleasure, though he often whined and cried out as though tortured.

It was disgusting, to watch what the man had become. Of his own free will he had sacrificed his humanity and his sanity. He had directly and indirectly brought about the deaths of tens of thousands. All for power.

Eugene and Balbagon pinned Leonid in place with offensive swings of their weapons, while from beyond the fray Aya was raining down a storm of arrows, her fingers knocking a fresh arrow before the hum of the previous missile had left the bowstring. Though her full concentration was on their enemy, her intentions were clear if only by per position, for she stood squarely between Leonid and Capell.

She would not forget her promise.

"Dregs," for a moment Leonid seemed lucid and contemptuous as always, had he not been trapped in the past. "You dare defy the Divine One's will? You follow a filthy heretic against Veros the Crimson?"

_Leonid… _He had vowed to kill Capell, had tried to do so repeatedly… and now, to insult Sigmund's son so…

Hatred bubbled over, erupting in a wordless battle cry.

Grinn Valesti crashed down with a vicious fury, and no sooner had Sigmund struck his enemy did he spin and launch into Alfheim. Yet he had failed to check his surroundings, and a rouge chain caught him square in the chest, denting his armor if not breeching it. Sigmund staggered at the force of the impact before rushing back in with Reginleif obeying his immediate command. Chains crumbled at his blade and Sigmund roared his fury with each new series of attacks.

"Lord Sigmund!" Eugene watched as his friend seemed to embrace once more the self destruction he had once been famous for. "Lord Sigmund, please be careful!"

Sigmund carved away another chain, pushing in with single-minded determination toward Leonid, who was countering the attacks of Rucha's summoned beast. VIIth Violation decimated the winged creature, expanding outward faster than thought. A cry from behind preceded a thin silvery chain that wrapped about Sigmund's waist, ripping him off of his feet. A single heartbeat and a few hundred paces later, the former Liberator found himself face to face with the Nightwhisperer. Honeysuckle had saved him from the devastation that would have claimed him. Yet the Cassandran felt no relief, only ire that he was so far from his target.

"Lord, are you injured?" Komachi's meek voice was nearly lost beneath the cacophony of battle. Roughly Sigmund pulled the light chain from his person and ignored her, turning to Leonid with clear intent. That Aya and Michelle were currently bombarding the Dread Knight's immediate vicinity with an onslaught of cutting projectiles did not matter, Sigmund began slicing at the chains that blocked his path on his way back to his enemy once more.

The sound of a familiar sword singing from its sheath caught Sigmund's attention. A glance to his rear and Sigmund's rage ebbed. The Emblazoned Sword was free, crimson eyes steeled upon him. Capell had seen enough.

Dancing Rhapsody called out loudly and Capell was driving a path through the chains with an intent all too clear. His movements were slightly awkward, however; he was using the wrong arm to wield his blade. It was an attempt at protecting his injury that would cost him dearly – his abilities were at a severe handicap when he fought with his inexperienced arm. Heads wheeled at the familiar call and, among the voices that cried out in alarm, Aya's was the loudest that called for him to stop. Her aim altered and the Emir began raining arrows down upon anything and everything that came within range of Capell. Try as she might she could not keep the danger completely at bay on her own, however. Chains fell as Marching Boots pushed her lover forward another few paces –

And Sigmund stood like an imposing wall of power between Capell and Leonid.

"Return to a safe distance." Sigmund's tone was commanding. Capell straightened to his full height and met his father's gaze squarely. For one who had once been as meek as a whipped dog, Capell now carried himself like a king.

"I told you once already, if you couldn't control yourself I'd take care of Leonid for you." It was a ridiculous statement – Capell could not honestly believe he could fight Leonid and win with the tactics he currently employed. Yet there was no falsity to his claim, and Sigmund thought better than to doubt his son's words.

"Capell… please…" Sigmund's jaw clenched and slackened once more. The sounds of their friend's embattled behind them faded into forgetfulness. His first thought was to pull aside his son's collar to assess the status of that terrible wound. The wound _he_ had initially inflicted. The hate that had filled him was gone, replaced by something far worse. "Return to your position, please. We cannot lose you." The son's face distorted painfully, as he grabbed hold of his father's armor.

"I'm probably already lost," he whispered through his grief. "Do you really think I'll survive the fight against the queen? Don't you see? They're going to need you when I'm gone. You have to live through this!"

He wanted to deny it. Sigmund found his voice scolding his son firmly, his heart begging to believe what his mind recited. Capell did not know the future. Embracing death was embracing failure. Capell owed it to them all to try to survive. The words poured out in brief but blunt statements.

Yet that logic of his previous life reared up once more, and Sigmund felt the crushing weight of it upon his heart. Sigmund was no healer, but he understood what it meant to damage one's body beyond repair. He had almost done so himself, and now Capell was in his place. Worse yet, they had no Lunaglyph to undo the damage before thrusting their leader into battle once more. The arguments had been made… and lost.

Yet Sigmund refused to admit defeat. Not yet. Not until the end came.

And… if the end did come…

"I will exercise caution," he promised at last with a composure he could not bring himself to feel, "do not place yourself in harm's way." Capell watched his father for a moment and then nodded, sliding his sword home once more.

Quickly Sigmund spun on his toes and returned to the battle. When next he looked upon Leonid's face, hatred failed to rise to the surface.

There was only dread. Capell was…

His heart and his mind battled mightily as he carried out the motions of battle like a puppet. His son's words deafened him to all else.

The death of another cherished one would be on his hands. His queen fell to grief caused by his actions. His blade had caused the wound that now threatened Capell's life.

It choked out his breath as he swung out with mechanical precision at a metal tendril. He couldn't survive Capell's death. He had endured hardships in his life, sacrificed everything. There was much he could bear, but not this. Not again.

He couldn't…

Sigmund completed a successful Reginleif and backed off immediately, giving Balbagon opportunity to maximize the damage of his axe in the clearing Sigmund had provided. Levantine Slash pushed Leonid back into Dominica's waiting blade. Vic and Kiriya bound in for a rapid dual attack before moving aside to grant Eugene a change to pummel the Dread Knight with a few sharp jabs of his staff.

The battle progressed slowly, fighting chains rather than Leonid consumed much of their time. Only by alternating attackers for Leonid and a defensive squad for the chains did the force begin to make noticeable headway against their former enemy.

Leonid's whimpers became pitiful moans. VIIth Violation was easier to predict and sent the force scattering clear of its reach, while XIIIth Word required only that the warriors step to either the aggressor's extreme sides or rear flank. After their battle with Gabriel, Leonid was trying and possessed far greater endurance, but he did not pose as large of a threat.

He was a shield for the Liberation Force to dull their swords upon.

The realization drowned out the last of the resentment Sigmund held against his former nemesis. For all of his desires, for all of his faithful service, Leonid had never been more than a tool used by the gods.

His life had been a pathetic waste. Pity for Svala filled Sigmund, followed quickly by envy. Pity that she would never experience the pride in her son Sigmund felt for Capell.

Envy that she had not been forced to witness the death of her son, where as Sigmund might…

Alfheim thankfully cleared his mind as the former king had to concentrate to maintain his footing.

"I must fulfill…" Leonid's fretting became louder and more frantic "fulfill my purpose… Divinity is within my grasp…"

Balbagon's massive axe hacked away at the chains before him, creating a void above once more.

Sigmund dove in, Grinn Valesti finding its mark.

Leonid's head collided with the smooth flooring without outcry or complaint. The chains that had protruded from every empty space beneath his cloak dissipated like smoke in the wind.

And as he stood over the freshly fallen corpse, Sigmund felt nothing at the demise of the clone.

It had been as Capell had said; Leonid had died up on the moon. He had died there a tool of the gods, not a man. This had been nothing but a monster wearing Leonid's features like a cloak.

"Is it over?" The little thief grimaced and gingerly touched a shoulder already turning a sickly purple. Sigmund nodded silently. Capell joined his father at his side, his sword drawn once more, his eyes alert.

They didn't have much time. It would be any moment.

Something of the room changed, began to shift and darken. The walls started to fade away. It was just as before.

"Oh… Oh Capell." Aya's voice was a soft moan. When Capell found her among their friends, her eyes were liquid, fixed on a point beyond his back. The others seemed to be equally distressed.

The pinprick sensation on the back of his neck told Capell he had been right. They would move immediately into the next battle.

The final battle.

He wasn't ready. He wasn't ready! Capell's stomach lurched and his knees quaked. For the first time in years, he felt the full force of old instincts assault him once more. He resisted the urge to cry out or run for the door that he could no longer see. When he met Sigmund's gaze, he knew by his father's expression that his panic was clear in his features. He didn't want to die! He changed his mind! He –

A voice from beyond the grave spoke softly to him, sending shockwaves down his spine and piercing his heart with raw emotion. All thought of escape was abandoned.

He knew before he even turned around…

The sweet voice drifted to him in a sing-song tone that closed his throat.

"At last."

XXXX

**A/N**

**Dum-dum-DUUUMMMMM!!! Come on already – you all know who it is. The question is: what happens next? I wasn't too keen on leaving off at this point because it is clearly so predictable until I realized that truthfully, where else would I cut into the next chapter? Logic, woman – logic! Besides, the next chapter is the END! You get your answers there. And you have no F-ing clue what's going to happen in the next fight, because NONE OF THAT WAS OUTLINED IN THE GAME! (Evil Laugh) There was no "After the Seraphic Gate" movie sequence. I can kill them all off if I want – you just don't know!**

**Okay, enough of the mini-god complex. I'm just so glad I got through this chapter. It felt a little rushed to me, but in truth the whole thing was meant to be the lead-up to the end chapter. You know – show the myriad of emotions the main characters are experiencing before the end fight. **

**Plus I never really saw the point in fighting Leonid after you already fought, Gabriel, who was a god. True, it makes sense when placed against the story's original plot and the whole premise of the Seraphic Gate mimicking their past, but as far as dramatics for the escalating importance of the enemies, it always seemed kind of anti-climactic to me. **

**FYI, the last is not going to rush along – it's almost 8,000 words and it's not completely ready yet. You might want to take a potty break before sitting down to read the final chapter once it's ready. I'm not going to slice that one up – it's coming out in one piece even if it's 12,000 words! **

**I admit – I tweaked the crap out of this chapter so you guys would have something to read already. I just couldn't make you guys wait anymore – it wasn't fair. **

**Let me know if this was worth it, okay?**


	8. A Price for Free Will

**I decided not to rush this one out like I did chapter 7. This is the final chapter – it had to be the best of the series. You guys have been such great readers I couldn't give you any less than my best for an ending. :o) And thus I give you…**

Chapter 8. A Price for Free Will

Her pretty face tore a hole through his heart. It wasn't that he didn't know this was the Ethereal Queen they had come to slay. The massive white wings behind her back were identical in all ways but color to those Gabriel had possessed.

The truth was that he had ached for so long to see that face just one last time. But now that he had his wish, he wanted nothing more than to take it back. He didn't want to see Faina's face – not like this. His last memory of her may have been a dream, or it may have been something more; she had been perfectly at peace against a backdrop of beautiful fields. Total trust and love had radiated from her smile, and more than anything that was the last image he wanted to keep forever. She had believed in him; believed he could rise above all he had endured and come out victorious. He knew without a doubt that vision or not, it had been Faina.

The copy smiled a truly happy smile – one Capell remembered as the expression Faina would show him when they reunited after an extended separation. He half expected her to fold her hands beneath her chin and giggle nervously. But that would mean she would have to drop that lethal looking scythe in her hands. And somehow Capell just didn't see that happening. The knot in his stomach started to burn.

"Thee have come," the archaic dialect made it even easier to distance this fraud from the real Faina, "this is most auspicious."

"Don't get the wrong idea," Capell's voice was as flat as he wished his emotions would be, "we're not here to give you what you want. We've come here to stop you." One feminine eyebrow arched haughtily – something Faina would never have done. His Faina hadn't known how to be haughty.

His Faina. She had been his... once. Even if he had been too busy juggling the desire for two women to take her up on her offer. And now it was too late. Faina was Capell's past; Aya was his future. Or at least, she would have been if he still had a future. Capell ground his teeth tightly, trying not to let despair find him now – not when he was so close…

The Ethereal Queen seemed not to notice his distress. "Indeed? Such ambition; misguided as it is futile. Thou must understand thee are not capable of besting me."

"We seemed to do a pretty good job of killing Gabriel," Capell said casually, as though he hadn't been so severely injured in that battle that he had nearly been lost. "It will take more effort from us, but I believe we can finish you, too."

"Thou dost not know the consequences of thine actions." The queen's soft voice chided and Capell ignored the motherly façade. "This opportunity is bestowed only once. Cast it aside and suffer Veros's fate."

"Veros's fate," Capell said stiffly, "was done by us. We destroyed him – not you." The lovely face smiled at Capell, just as Faina used to smile for him; as though the queen adored him.

"Thee believe thou could have succeeded had I not willed it?" Her question was delivered through a light chuckle that did little to comfort those she spoke to. "Veros betrayed my will in attempting to remake the mortal world I entrusted with him. His sentence was just. That thou were his executioners matters not. Thou were wielded by my hand as surely as thy swords are wielded by thee."

"We fought because we chose to," Edward countered heatedly, "we fought to protect our world. You had nothing to do with our decision."

"But everything to do with thy success." The Ethereal Queen countered with far less humor. "Had I chosen to intervene, rest assured Veros would live today and thee most certainly would not."

"So what about Gabriel," Vic's cocky tone erupted from the middle of the group, "what did he do to tick ya off? 'Cause we killed him, too."

"Gabriel was inconsequential. That thee slew him matters not, only that he carried out his purpose before he perished. His actions ensured thou would lack the strength to overcome me. Certainly thou are aware any battle against me is suicide. Succumbing to my will is thine only alternative."

"Your will. _Your_ _will_." Capell's sword rose in deadly promise. "Your will means nothing to me. We decide our fates, not you. Our lives belong to us."

"And thine lives were bestowed upon thee by whom? Not Veros; he told thee as much." The motherly smile returned. "Every beat of thy hearts, every breath in thy lungs; it is all because I bestowed life to mankind. The lives thee live have always been mine."

"Never." Sigmund hissed. "Giving life does not grant automatic mastery. As long as humanity possesses free will, you will not possess us."

The pretty figure before them paused thoughtfully. "Such power as wielded by thee could rule the heavens. It is the very reason thou were created. Thee truly were the instruments of great promise. And yet a weapon without a warrior to wield it is of no use."

She shook her head as though saddened at the thought and sighed after a moment.

"Thee must desire respite from thy empty existence… _thou shall have it!_"

Three black as pitch orbs materialized while a blinding flash of light brighter than anything Capell had ever known seemed to suck the winged menace from their view. The Ethereal Queen was enveloped in a blinding shell of light, reappearing farther into the great chamber and out of their reach.

It must have been instinct – a reaction from fighting in the same place they had stood against Veros – for at her words the Liberation Force was dispersing as much as they could, giving the queen no mass of targets to wipe out all at once.

Sigmund alone hung close to Capell, but at a rough shove Capell forced him back a few steps.

"Get away!" Capell shouted, "we're too tempting together!" The warrior in Sigmund knew that his son was right. Two Liberators at once would be far too appealing for the queen to ignore. With a great deal of reluctance, Sigmund moved well out of aid's reach of Capell, watching as his son hacked away at a faesphere that had come too close to him. Battle cries crescendoed from all sides, warriors taking on enemies with vicious attacks and oaths. Sigmund's own voice blended into the uproar when he turned his attention to another of the deadly orbs as it came between him and the queen.

Rucha was summoning her creatures and losing them just as quickly. The winged things would dive upon the queen, land a single blow, and then be blown from existence by any one of her multitude of spells. Screeching their demise, the beasts would vanish only to be born again at the summoner's command, the girl's tenacity rivaling that of her brother. Further away, the acrobatic former thief sprung feet-over-hands backward, Vic successfully maneuvering to stay out of reach of another faesphere's attack.

With the liquid grace of her trade, Komachi was the first to slip in close enough for short-ranged combat against the queen. Before the god was able to realize an enemy was beside her, the Nightwhisperer was able to land a solid Thistle attack, rapid blows of her daggers striking true, and then retreat before the queen could counter. Vic followed closely and brought down a Grasshopper Stomp before somersaulting away with a Geoquake landslide of sorts in tight pursuit. Aya contributed fall after fall of Raven Venom, each time pausing to change positions and avoid retaliation.

Yet despite the most powerful attacks the team could unleash, the queen seemed as fresh as ever.

Then, just as they had feared, things quickly escalated.

Vic screamed in pain as Astrocolypse erupted unexpectedly, swallowing the thief in a blast of pure energy. All agility and speed, Vic was still unable to twist out of the way in time while moving in for another assault. Exposed skin of arms, legs and face were lacerated heavily, threatening mortal danger as they bled out. Long legs gave way and the wounded fighter dropped heavily onto damaged hands and knees, watching in horror as blood pooled on the ornate flooring bellow. In the distance Edward cried out Vic's name, slashing wildly at the orb before him in an effort to break through to his friend.

Blind panic caused Michelle to forget herself and cry out "Levusti" in a habit she had not been able to break these past two years.

And at once Vic was surrounded by a flare of beautiful light; the blood that had seeped from a thousand wounds vanished, leaving unmarred skin beneath. Vic's agony silenced, and bewildered eyes lowered to skin as pristine as a newborn's.

For a moment the force nearly forgot they were engulfed in battle. Even the queen seemed to hesitate as she appraised the sudden turn of fortune. Michelle glanced down to her hand, the Lunaglyph at its back still faintly glowing from the expended energy of the healing spell.

They had their glyphs.

_They had their glyphs!_

"How…" she murmured, looking back to Vic, who was staring at the healer in open-mouthed shock.

"All-_right!_" Rico's exaltation broke the silence and, in a voice that cracked whenever the young teen became excited, Voltscourge answered his command. Electric bolts leapt forth as though it had never left him, engulfing the queen in fingers of super-charged ozone. In unison, Rucha was immediately crying out for Pyreddon, summoning forth the deadly chunks of burning stone to crush down upon their foe.

Capell's steps were lightning quick as he evaded another faesphere when it began to close in on him. Armor flashed in the strange light, giving the impression that Capell was moving faster than reality. The faesphere in pursuit corrected its course, only to find Balbagon had stepped in to clear the Liberator's path to the queen. The mighty axe cleaved through air and collided with the alien matter while Capell sped forward, sword humming in the air as he moved in for his attack upon their nemesis.

A slender form stepped in his path and he barely had time to twist the blade away to spare a life.

"Aya what are you doing?" Capell gasped, tottering from his abrupt halt. "I could have-"

Aya's palm slapped flat against his chest, preventing him from toppling over onto her. "Levi!" She cried and Capell's eyes widened, his breath leaving him in a throaty grunt.

His first experience was pain – liquid fire that lanced from his shoulder into his chest and down to his stomach. The healing magic negated Kiriya's analgesic – the nearness of its caster causing instant and uninhibited results. Before he could double over, however, Aya was crying out the healing spell's name again, and another burst of prismatic light engulfed the Liberator. Aya repeated the spell a third, fourth and fifth time for good measure before she fell silent and backed off a step, barely remembering that distance was the key to avoiding annihilation.

Capell looked up to his betrothed, realizing what she had just done. At a twist of his shoulder, he could feel the muscles stretch and contort beneath his skin, but not even a slight twinge to hint that an injury had ever been present. For the first time in so long he felt whole again. A smile spread slowly, engulfing his face after a moment. The sword spun up lightly and he turned to face the queen as fresh as though he hadn't fought in days.

"As parasitic as the god that spawned them; so do behave his glyphs." The queen wore a look close to disgust on her face. "Thieving my power just as Veros, in order to defy me. Thou believe having thy glyphs back will fair thee any better? Allow me to correct the misinterpretation. _Seraphic Law!"_

Capell's joy evaporated.

He had just enough time to hurl Aya out of the way before over a dozen missiles of light and energy collided with him, producing an agonized cry and sending the Liberator sailing through the air. Ricocheting off of the invisible walls, Capell landed in a limp pile of metal and flesh against the edge of the engraved platform, completely silent.

"_Capell!" _Several voices screamed the name in unison, but it was Eugene who reached him first. Aya labored to draw the queen's attention away with attacks that left the Emir blatantly open for a counter attack.

"Eugene?!?" She screeched in alarm as she unleashed Simorgh Zal upon the queen without a care for the faesphere that was drawing so near to her. From across the battlefield Eugene's voice called out "Salvus" and was accompanied by a flash of light witnessed from the corner of Aya's eye. Moments later she discerned Eugene rush past her, his staff drawn as he moved in to assist Kiriya against the third faesphere. Aya took aim at the queen, released her arrows and held her breath.

"Levantine Slash!" Capell's voice rang clearly amidst the din of battle and Aya sagged in relief when he crashed down upon the god, sending the winged form recoiling. "Aya – the faesphere!" The Emir nodded and turned, finding the pitch black orb closing in on her. Capell glanced at the blonde girl and the sultry healer. "Michelle, Rucha, just like before!" Michelle consented silently and backed away, Rucha doing the same – their instructions clear. They were to attack only when it did not drain their reserves – their main roles were to revive the fallen and heal the injured.

A concussion of energy reverberated from across the platform; one of the faespheres disintegrated, Sigmund's sword still completing its arc. Capell returned his focus to the queen, Levantine Slash combined with Eternal Refrain in order to give him reaction time if needed.

The queen was by no means passive; she moved quickly and attacked brutally. Despite the powerful attacks Capell let lose upon her she was able to attack his friends without restraint. Dominica fell, revived, and fell again in the course of a single breath. Capell situated himself between the former mercenary and his nemesis long enough for Rucha to complete the revival process.

With a disdainful frown, the queen dissipated and reappeared directly beside Rucha. Capell roared her name as the queen called out casually "Southern Cross", and the summoner became the next casualty of the queen's cruelty. Her petite frame was tragically small as it lay on the battlefield. From beyond the main fray, Rico bellowed his sister's name.

"Dammit!" Balbagon hefted his axe and met Eugene's eyes. The prime minister set his route for the felled girl, Balbagon intercepting the queen as she materialized in what would have been the perfect position to take out Eugene. "The hell you will!" The giant thundered, Axle Drive knocking the queen back a few paces if not sending her to the ground.

Eugene knelt beside Rucha and with a sharp hand gesture and a quiet word, had the girl back on her feet in moments.

Balbagon grunted and crashed to the ground, the queen's ire at being thwarted turned on him. A glint of metal and an armored body moved in upon their foe; Capell now barely discernable from his father – even to those who knew him well. His face was a hard plane of determination.

Capell's roar echoed in the seemingly vast space and his sword crashed down upon the queen, deflecting the huge scythe she brandished and returning to land another crushing attack. Not once did he attempt to back off, even when Southern Cross was called out again, sending him sailing back only to be revived by Rucha.

Like a man possessed, Capell rose with Rucha's assistance and launched himself at the queen again.

A deep-voiced battle cry called forth and Edward's massive blade joined Capell's; the two fighting side by side. Not even when they were revived from a critical attack did they exercise caution.

It became clear to those around them what their intentions were. So long as they attacked continuously the healers would not be targeted. And as long as the healers stood, the offensive forces could attack as aggressively as they needed. Pain be damned – wounds could be healed and the hurt forgotten with time.

From behind the queen Sigmund emerged, Alfheim slamming the diminutive god against Edward's massive blade, playing her tiny frame in a ferocious game of catch between the swords. They fought like men who had nothing to lose, though in fact it was the exact opposite. Each time they fell there was a very real possibility that they would never rise again. Even with two of their number reserved strictly for healing and reviving the fallen, the queen was cutting them down as quickly as they were restored.

Worse, there was no guarantee how long the power of the Lunaglyphs would last. The queen had stated they were thieving her power – if she weakened to the point where she could no longer sustain her powers, the Force could lose the power of the Lunaglyphs all together. And those who had just fallen would never rise again.

Somewhere beyond the din Balbagon shouted triumphantly, another faesphere crumbled at his axe's blade.

One orb to go, and then there would only be the queen.

Almost sneering from amidst the attacks that were raining down on her, the queen taunted the mortals again about the emptiness of their existence.

A thunderous attack sent all humans near to her sailing back through the air, engulfed in a wall of energy that decimated them all.

Rucha cried out her craft's command, immediately followed by Eugene; Capell and Sigmund rose to their feet once more. Next Edward stood, and Komachi, who had also been downed in the onslaught.

Dominica's voice followed a deafening noise, announcing the last of the faespheres had fallen, and with the exception of the two who already had their instructions, all-out melee was waged on the queen by the Liberation Force.

The Ethereal Queen's attack, Accused, repeatedly fell the close ranged fighters, Southern Cross taking out those who fought from a distance. Eugene voluntarily pulled back from the fighting after a time; for all of her strength of magic, Rucha was struggling beneath the demands of her task to keep her comrades alive. Potions concocted of white berry juice were being gulped down rapidly, restoring the mental energies required to ply a Lunaglyph. The supply was running dangerously low; Rucha realized when she reached for her next dose. Soon there would be none left – they hadn't thought to bring a large supply of the mental stimulants. Without Lunaglyphs the white potions had been brought in order to serve as back-up healing supplies.

Sigmund's sword swept down, Capell's sword arced up, and the queen's head whiplashed violently with the impact of the two blades. Southern Cross swept through Capell, taking him out of the fight and then Vic, who had been standing a hundred paces beyond the Liberator. Eugene and Rucha revived the two instantly.

"You can keep knocking us down," Capell's eyes flashed with an anger barely managed as he pushed himself to his feet, "you can batter us and knock us out, but we'll keep fighting. We won't lose to you!"

A bludgeoning wall of energy rendered him unconscious momentarily, yet after a word from Eugene Capell was pushing himself back to his feet, the same fierce look turned upon the Ethereal Queen. Two quick combination attacks later and the queen faltered upon her luminescent wings, true concern painting her face.

Bright round eyes met Capell's as though seeing him for the first time as the threat he was.

Three more combination attacks. Capell fell beneath Accused, pushing himself to his feet when Rucha called for his return. He cast aside a gauntlet that was mangled beyond use and raised his sword once more.

"Capell," a sweet, airy voice that matched the face quavered from beneath his blade, "don't do this. Don't-"

"Faina's dead," Capell's face was such tenacity it could have been Sigmund's, "and you're losing."

"No Capell…" pained eyes pleaded with him, tears sparkling brightly. "Please, you don't understand," Capell flicked a glance to his father before settling it back onto the queen. From behind Aya's arrows continued to pelt the god, Rico's voice summoning electrical attacks that now had the queen floundering beneath their blows.

"You were right about one thing," The Liberator admitted, "Gabriel did serve a purpose. He nearly destroyed me in more ways that a sword along could do. But I survived, and despite your plans, I came out stronger. Faina and Leif…"

The Emblazoned Sword lowered and stilled, and with it the Liberation Force almost froze, watching their leader incredulously.

"You…" Capell gritted, "… and Veros… are the reason they died. Not me." Red eyes flashed with a fury that was as unnerving to his friends as his father's wrath had been. "_YOU!_"

White and blue steel swept through the dim light, faster than Capell had ever moved before. The Emblazoned Sword buried itself within the green and white blouse that had once brought out the auburn of Faina's hair.

White wings folded and Faina's imposter melted to the floor in a graceless sprawl.

The impossible had happened.

The queen of the gods was dead.

XXXX

Sigmund's chest heaved as he panted out his exertion, trying to steady his vitals to a normal rhythm. It was quiet once more; Sigmund ears rang with the stillness as his eyes took in his surroundings. The Emblazoned Sword was still lodged within the queen's breast, Capell motionless as he stood above her corpse. There was no trace of remorse in his son's face, only a tired acceptance.

They had slain the queen.

No, _Capell_ had slain the queen. His son had brought down the greatest threat to have ever faced them – and though it should not have been possible, he had lived. Sigmund had stopped believing in miracles many years ago, and yet there Capell stood; a true marvel of living flesh and bone.

So slowly, he could have been within a dream, Sigmund approached the tableau of good's triumph over evil. Around them their fellows were drawing in on one another. Capell raised his eyes from his slain adversary and found his father. It seemed he was trying to smile, though weariness of body and mind weighed too heavily upon the young Liberator to allow the mirth. And yet still he spoke.

"I think," he said slowly, "it's safe to promise you those grandchildren you asked for earlier." The faintest smile tipped the corners of his lips, only to be washed away by unchecked disbelief.

For the first time in twenty years, since the day he had knelt before Svala and pleaded for her aid, tears fell to Sigmund's cheeks.

When Capell had died in Vesplume Tower, Sigmund had remained stoic. When his son had been revived a short time later, the former king had remained equally composed. In both instances he had held onto self-control by habit alone, built up through years of practice. A second skin he had difficulty shedding for anything.

Yet now, seeing Capell standing before him, battered but alive and victorious, Sigmund felt his composure crack and crumble to dust. They should all be dead, and yet they weren't. His son, the boy he had thrown away, had saved them all. Without hesitating to question if it was the right thing to do, Capell had risked his life and soul to protect those he held most dear.

And when the fighting had ended and they had succeeded, Capell had proven that his character was as indomitable as ever.

The emotions of a father overtook Sigmund, stronger than he had ever experienced before.

Capell released his hold on the weapon in hand and turned to him. Concern at his father's reaction painted his features.

"Father-" In two wide steps Sigmund crushed his son to his chest desperately, his fist knotting up in the auburn hair that so resembled his own. With total disregard for those who stood around them, Sigmund buried his face in that hair.

"Never again," he murmured through his tears, "never again will I fear losing you. Do you understand? _Never_." The head beside his nodded and then pressed against him, and Sigmund felt Capell returned the embrace.

"It's okay, father," Capell choked, "it's okay. I'm not going anywhere. I promise." Sigmund's grip tightened at the vow, but Capell ignored the difficulty he was having taking in air.

Breathing seemed so insignificant right now.

Another set of arms wrapped tightly around his waist, and without questioning who it was, Capell reached back and embraced the newcomer, hearing Aya mumble something he couldn't make out against his armor. The crush was soon compounded when Michelle and the twins added themselves to the mix. Friends surrounded the throng, some shouting in triumph, others standing in silent but grateful disbelief. Capell thought he could stay like that forever, until he truly had trouble filling his lungs with air.

"Guys, come on," he said, pushing at Sigmund's shoulder half-heartily, "I can't breathe." Sigmund's arms slacked and he allowed Capell to pull back, the others disbursing a little as well.

"No," Eugene frowned, seemingly out of breath himself, "it's not just you. It's the air. There's something wrong here."

The strange bands of light beyond the great paned windows began to waiver, Capell's gaze rising to the phenomenon. Beneath their feet the echo of their footfalls seemed to change, as though the floor was becoming hollow.

Looking around the room, Capell suddenly had the feeling that the walls were made of paper, capable of blowing away at any moment. Though nothing appeared different the feel of the place was thinning, weakening.

This world was fading away into nothingness.

"We have to go," he said softly, "right now."

XXXX

The warriors sped for the final teleporter, Capell pushing them on without mercy. They sky above was swirling madly; the air becoming thinner and thinner.

All around them beasts that would have normally attacked on sight were stampeding to nowhere in terror, avian creatures crashing to the ground, the thin air unable to support their weight any longer. It had made the trek that much faster without the constant battling, and the journey that had seemed to stretch on for days now passed by in just a fraction of the time.

Their first attempt to flee the Seraphic Gate had failed – within the false Castle Kolton only one of the two teleporters that provided a way out had been accessible. Stone bricks had toppled within the castle walls, blocking the path to the platform that lead back to the real Kolton and exposing a void beyond the building composed purely of colored light. Similar holes were punched into the stairway and floors within the castle, revealing the plane of nothingness beyond that was swallowing up this mimicked world. The Force had been obliged to make a run for the last teleporter out of the Seraphic Gate – the entrance to the gate itself.

The arachnids paid no mind to them as they entered their point of origin, the false Graad Prison. The strange creatures preoccupied with writhing and keening, ignorant of anything but their own imminent demise. The humans had to move carefully despite the urgency of their retreat. Stone pavers had broken free and large gaping holes riddled their only way home. Occasionally brickwork from the ceiling above would crash down, taking out more of the stairway and the occasional spider.

The clatter of boots and sandaled feet bounced up the stone steps, bringing all to a halt atop the circular platform at long last. Climbing the staircase had been excruciating and more than a few doubled over upon the platform, pulling at the air desperately, rasping breaths dragged through pale lips.

Nothing happened.

Vic's eyes widened in panic. "Why? Why… isn't it working?"

"The queen…" Eugene sucked in a gasp, trying to fill his lungs with air, "…held this world together, and the gate to our world open. When she died she ceased feeding this place power. Perhaps the teleporters that lead out of this world... require more power than the ones that take us between planes. Perhaps… there is not enough power left to leave."

Dominica's epithet was followed by a loud crack as her fist met stone of the nearby wall. The woman took defeat as well as she did a dry flask. Rucha and Rico who would have at once time giggled scandalously at the curse now could only stand beside Balbagon; the boy trying to paste his bravest face on while the girl clung to the behemoth man's shirt in fear.

Capell released Aya's hand and fumbled behind his back. His lungs were already burning with the effort of simply breathing air that was no longer enough. Trembling fingers produced Saruleus' flute.

Voices stilled as his friends turned to him expectantly.

He was the Liberator, The Blade of the Unblessed. He had to save them – he would allow no less of himself.

"Please…" his whisper was meant for no one; he held no god dear, and Sigmund was not in some paradise but standing beside him. Yet still he pleaded. "Please let this be enough…"

The flute raised to his lips, his eyes slid closed.

The first notes wavered into the air, beautiful and slow; loving and longing. The sound was faint, Capell's face paling at the effort of using the inadequate air. His head swum dizzily but he pressed on. Shimmering light glowed faintly from the instrument, waxing and waning with the notes Capell played, moving and drifting about his head like thin tendrils of smoke.

This was 'Aya's Smile', the Emir realized; the song that had brought him home. She had always known it was her favorite melody, even though she had never heard a note of it. Now as she listened to the song, heard the emotion behind it, Aya felt the melody speak to her as though it used words. He had wanted her beside him. He had ached for her, for the love that only she could give him. Her smile was his joy, her embrace was his rapture.

Aya no longer knew fear. She forgot that the world around them was disintegrating. She only knew Capell and the emotions that drove him.

The thin tendrils of light were wavering. Capell had spent most of his energies in battle. But Aya did not panic. She moved closer to him, pressing a gentle hand to the back of his neck. When she successfully Connected to him – something they had not attempted since their fight with Veros – she felt how depleted his strength was. Bright eyes turned to her companions, the notes of Capell's song still a comfort to her soul.

"We don't have the Lunaglyphs anymore," she said to her friends, "but we do have power of our own. The power we are born with, not given. Capell needs it now. We have to lend him our strength."

"A multiple Connection?" Edward mused. He didn't know if it was possible, but moved forward anyway. It would have to be by touch now – the Lunaglyphs had faded back to near invisible scars upon their skin only moments after the queen's death. Without the Lunaglyphs, power did not flow from them with the support of magic. Edward placed a hand on Capell's shoulder. Sigmund pushed in beside the dark man and added his own grip. One by one each member of the Force tapped into their inner strength, willing it into Capell. The tendrils of light thickened and widened their range, enveloping each person with its luminescence.

Light flared brightly from beneath their feet, spinning faster and faster as it grew in intensity. The light and notes of Capell's song seemed to cut them off from all other sensation. The air thickened into something that could at last fill their lungs. Deep gasps melded with the music and the light became a blinding radiance turning the world around them to an entirely undefined space of pure white. 'Aya's Smile' filled the blankness and their souls.

Though ground disappeared beneath their feet they did not fall. Time stretched on longer than usual for a teleportation. Moments of suspended in weightless existence at last gave way to the echo of a flute's music against stone walls once more. Light faded and the troupe blinked back their vision.

They stood within Castle Kolton, atop a platform that had gone dark and still.

The music stopped and Capell melted as though boneless, not noticing when the grip of his friends stopped him from colliding with the ground.

XXXX

He blinked and, remembering his last cognizant act, gave in to the sick urge to smile. Nearly a dozen pairs of eyes peered down at him anxiously. He lay on his back atop the platform, his legs stretched out carefully as though his limbs had been arranged for his comfort. He could not have been unconscious long – his friends were still working to catch their breath.

"Geeze, can't a guy even take a nap anymore?" He murmured and Edward stood, guffawing in what should have been disgust had his own grin not slipped free. Aya smiled in relief.

"You always were a lazy-bones." She chided and took the hand her lover stretched out, helping him to his feet.

"I can't believe you fainted," Edward muttered good-humoredly. "Don't tell me-"

Footsteps trouped up the stairs and two dozen pikemen appeared, weapons drawn and trained on them. Quickly Capell placed himself between the soldiers and his friends on the chance the soldiers suspected the Liberation Force had gone mad, too.

"Stand down," The Liberator slipped easily into that air of authority that had taken him so long to perfect, "the threat is gone. Our world, including Kolton, is safe."

It took a moment but the soldiers complied; the man at the fore breaking his intimidating appearance with a relieved smile.

"We never doubted you for a moment, Lord Capell." He said with a wide smile which hinted there were others who had not shared his faith.

XXXX

Try as he might, he could not bring himself to sit and be patient. Yet again he stood and walked to the city entryway, studying the path beyond. Yet again there was no sign of anyone approaching the great city. He managed to swallow back the sigh that threatened to escape, but forgot to smooth away the frown that marred his features.

The expression did not go unnoticed, and from his place beside a nearby wall, Genma smiled.

It had been more than two years; some illogical part within him experienced a deep sense of loss at the thought. Over two years since he had last spoken to them. Though it did not feel as though so much time has passed to him, Touma wondered how different their lives had become in his absence. But then to hear that, despite the absence of Lunaglyphs, they had dashed off to save the world once more – it seemed so like his comrades that he could not imagine they had changed much after all. The thought gave him hope that the friendship he had shared with his fellows could be rekindled.

Touma straightened his posture and strolled casually to the entryway once more, trying to will himself to that state of calm he used to be able to attain without effort. It had once been so simple, to explain away emotion and find the calm center within. It seemed the Lunaglyphs had been the cause of that, for try as he might now, he could not stave off the feelings that churned his insides and stirred every thought within his head. In an effort to find distraction Touma turned back to the pathway into the Timberlands.

News had spread to Halgita quickly of the Liberation Force's victory in the Seraphic Gate. Once more the heroes of humanity rose up in defiance of those that would enslave or destroy all that humanity held dear. Stories of two gods, more powerful and cunning than Veros, were already circulating; some clearly the work of overactive imaginations while others cast his friends in such an accurate light they could not be fiction. Those stories gave Touma the most cause for concern, for a few among them told of the Liberator's death, and then his revival at the hands of Savio's prodigy. That they had struggled against forces powerful enough to kill Capell…

Though no story depicted the permanent death of any among his former entourage, Touma could not quell his nerves until he laid eyes on his friends personally.

Genma had been prudent enough to send away the attendants and servants who had come to the city gates. To placate the people, a welcoming celebration had been planned for tomorrow – in order to give the returning heroes a chance to rest upon their return rather than being flung into duty immediately.

Touma's pacing and silent musings ceased when his eyes rose next. From deep within the forest, a group of people he knew all too well came into view from amidst the trees. His youthful face split into a child-like grin and without a word he rushed through the great portal and down the pathway to his friends.

"Hey!" A voice that could only be Capell's chimed loudly from further up the road, "_Hey!_ It's Touma!" Murmurs and shouts followed Capell's announcement, some whooping Touma's name and bringing a flutter of joy to his chest. But only one of the figures broke ahead of the others, Komachi's ebony hair and light steps making her seem to be a dark ghost as she floated toward him.

"L-Lord Touma!" She gasped when she reached him at last, ahead of the others who had seemed to hang back slight, only just breaking into a run themselves. "You have awakened!"

"Some weeks ago, yes." Touma replied, his smile wide and earnest. "I am pleased to see you are unharmed. I was told of your latest encounter, and regret that I could not be there by your side."

The warrior woman's head shook slowly, and Touma knew an uncomfortable sensation as it spread through his middle. But as he watched, his former subordinate's eyes filled.

"I have waited for this moment…" she breathed, "watched over you as you slept. I was so afraid that I would never see the day…"

"Genma did not tell me that you watched over me," Touma replied, "I never wished for duty to bind you to me during my sleep."

"No, My Lord," Komachi shook her head more urgently, "it was not of duty. I wanted to be by your side. I hoped every day to see you stir. I wanted to be the first to see you reawaken."

"You… you waited for me?" From beyond the warrior woman's shoulder the Liberator drew up to the pair. He paused only for a moment before slowly walking on.

"Hey, uh, we'll meet you guys inside, okay? Don't take too long Touma – we have a lot to catch up on!" Capell smiled awkwardly. As he lead the Force by, he leaned in close and breathed faintly into the meek woman's ear. "If you never say it, you'll never know." She blinked and nearly jumped, but Capell never broke his step, and shrugged. "Just something I learned along the way." He called candidly as he continued down the path, giving the former aristo a friendly pat on the shoulder as he passed. It was a lesson he had learned well – from Aya and Sigmund – and one he was happy to pass on now.

"Is it strange… to be without your great power?" Komachi glanced at her feet and Touma found himself wondering why she seemed so nervous. Her reaction to him was beginning to influence him similarly, which was even more disconcerting. Yet she had chosen to engage in conversation instead of leaving, so he complied.

"In all honesty I cannot recall what it felt like to be an aristo. I recall certain aspects. The serenity, the incantations, yet if you ask me what it felt like to harbor that much power I cannot say. Strange, but it must be for the best." He tilted his head, attempting to gain a clear view of her face. "You seem troubled Komachi. You say you are happy to see me, but you do not seem to be so. Might I pry and ask what is troubling you?"

"I…" he watched as she mustered up courage – it was an act he recognized well. Komachi's strength came not from a lack of fear, but from her ability to act appropriately while experiencing that fear. It was something he had always valued in her. "I missed you, My Lord… terribly."

"I am flattered, Komachi," he replied with a smile, his anxiety quieting, "it does my heart well to-"

"No My Lord, you do not understand." Her eyes squinted closed for a moment at being bold enough to interrupt, before relaxing her features once more, seemingly watching Touma's knees intently. "In my cowardice I could only speak to you as you slept. I have confided in you many times of late, though you would not remember. But… I cannot hope for change if I remain stagnant myself.

"My Lord… my… my… my heart is yours. You may not have known it, but the moment I came to your side, you have possess not only my devotion, but my affection, and have held it fast ever since."

Touma watched her for a moment, uncertain of what he had heard. "Do you speak of love, Komachi?" The woman nodded.

Touma felt light. Lighter than he had felt in… he could not remember. The feeling of elation had sent his stomach twisting when Komachi had first come into view compounded in an instant. It was not at all unpleasant, though it was disorientating to say the least.

Love. It had been a concept that had eluded him as an aristo – very few aristos had been capable of fully expressing the emotion, of experiencing it the way others could, while maintaining their grasp on reason. And yet now, without that accursed logic interfering, Touma was at last able to understand the complex emotion that drove the rest of humanity. He could not imagine how he had been able to explain away to feeling of love as an aristo. Though it turned rational thought upside down, it made life seem so much richer, more satisfying.

Had he loved Komachi all of this time and simply been too logical to know what it was he felt? How had that been possible?

Touma decided that processing these questions was no longer relevant. He decided to not waste another day; another moment.

"Komachi, I will cherish the gift of your heart for all time if you would do me the courtesy of accepting mine in its stead." The pretty face opposite him seemed to glow from within. Whatever fear had filled her face melted away before he could register that it was gone.

"My Lord?" It was the faintest whisper, but it said so much. He moved carefully, taking her hands into his. He had seen men courting women make the gesture and it always seemed to be appreciated by the lady.

"Touma," he corrected gently, taking a step closer to her. Komachi nodded.

"Touma," she murmured.

"Your pardon, Komachi," in such close proximity it seemed inappropriate to raise his voice to anything beyond a whisper, "I have never…" she seemed to understand what he was attempting to say.

"Nor have I."

"Then…" he moved in closer and the sweet scent of her hair met him – he had only once been this close to the fair warrior before – and then she had been crying. He could feel her breath upon his face now, could feel the heat of her even in the tropical Halgitian climate. "Then we shall learn together."

The two Nightwhisperers seemed to have forgotten their promise not to dawdle. Neither was aware of anything around them; most certainly not of the troupe of onlookers watching from the city entrance. When Touma at last closed the distance between Komachi and himself and met her lips for the first time, bemused smiles found the faces of most of their friends.

"Took him long enough," Vic grunted from against the door frame and Capell chuckled.

"I'll say."

XXXX

With nearly reverent hands, he placed the circlet upon the crimson tunic, folded atop the suit of armor that had been mended and polished to a gleaming shine. With a final long look, Sigmund closed the lid to the cedar chest, flipping the catches closed and locking away a part of his past he would always hold dear. The tunic and trousers he wore in its place were fine enough for a man of his political stature, just shy of the kingly robes he had once worn.

The cloak, sash and other regalia assigned to his fine clothes were left ignored on the bed. The medals and accessories of nobility were quite formal and proud, and presently he did not wish to emulate any of those qualities.

He had made a promise, he thought as he exited his assigned suite within Fayal's palace, and he was going to try.

The royal family of Cassandra was temporarily residing in Fayal until such time as the kingdom's restoration was completed and the castle habitable once more. Though Kolton or Halgita would have served well for their close proximity to Cassandra, it seemed only fitting that the homeland of Cassandra's future queen play host. It also made sense as arrangements had to be made to see to the governing of the two kingdoms once their rulers were married. It was the only reason Capell and Aya were still waiting to make their vows – though they had recently taken to warning their courts that they would not wait much longer.

And so Sigmund was given free reign of the castle, and required no escort or permission as he made his way to the Emir's personal suite.

It did his heart good to hear music playing from behind the closed door. Capell's flute always bespoke his mood, and at present a very lively and jovial song was muffled by the thick wood and embossment. At a brisk rap of his knuckles, Sigmund heard Aya's voice call for him to come in.

Sigmund entered to find Aya swatting at Edward's arm, trying her best to scowl at him.

"You're not even trying!" Edward was clearly receiving a lecture from the resistant set of his jaw. "If you don't put some effort into it you'll never learn in time for the wedding – and what sort of man doesn't dance at his friends' wedding? How is it you've spent your entire life at court and you can't complete once successful step of any dance?"

"I guess some of us spent our time learning practical lessons," Edward's emphasis on the adjective spoke very clearly of his opinion on dancing. Aya succeeded in deepening her frown.

"Honestly, I don't see how you plan on attracting your future queen if you can't even dance a something as basic as-"

"Who said anything about finding me a queen?!"

"Well you're going to have to eventually, right? And what woman wants a man who doesn't know how to dance with her?"

Edward turned to Capell. The Cassandran King raised his hands defensively.

"No help here. I know how to dance," he chuckled, "I had to learn as a wandering musician." Blue-black eyes rose pleadingly to the newcomer.

"Lord Sigmund, add some reason to this nonsense, please!"

"I am afraid Aya makes a valid argument. A man of court should be able to revel with his guests when the occasion calls for it."

"_You_ can dance?" Capell's dubiousness caused Sigmund to arch a brow.

"You seem surprised."

"More like unconvinced." Capell ribbed.

"Very well. Play something."

Capell grinned and raised his flute to his lips. At the first note of the exciting tune he had been playing earlier Sigmund held out his hand to Aya. When the woman nearly squeaked out "Me?" he smiled – something he had been making a conscious effort to do every day.

Because he had promised.

"This is a dance for partners."

Aya's smile became a chuckle, though a hot blush still colored her cheeks. "Of course."

Taking Sigmund's hand, she was immediately swept into the steps of the lively dance. Sigmund moved with the grace and confidence that seemed to cloak him permanently, though now he his movements seemed lighter, less burdened. As they danced and twirled Aya's laughter speckled the song.

Capell gave a low whistle of appreciation and surprise once he lowered the instrument, and Sigmund bowed formally to his future daughter-in-law.

With a brisk pivot, the elder Cassandran faced Edward once more. "It is far simpler than you are making it out to be."

"There was nothing simple about that dance." Edward countered and Sigmund cocked his head slightly at the persistence the younger displayed.

"Very well. Then it will simply be necessary to find a lady who cares little for dancing."

"Excuse me?" Edward's jaw fell open slightly and Capell nearly chuckled. "I still don't understand; how did this conversation turn into finding me a queen?"

"Dominica doesn't dance." The New Liberator mused with false thoughtfulness, ignoring his friend's protests. Edward fumed. Aya pretended to give the suggestion serious thought.

"But can you picture Dominica in a gown?" She asked and Capell failed miserable at holding back a snort of amusement. "What about Gina?" Aya suggested as though trying to help. "There's no law that says you have to marry nobility."

"Gina's as charming as a Drogo!" Edward's cheeks reddened in frustration at being the butt of a joke.

Sigmund frowned pensively at Aya and Capell, wiping the smirks from their faces as they noticed his expression. It occurred to him that they were expecting an admonishment.

Yet he had made a promise to Capell.

It had been so long… what would they…

A though came to mind and Sigmund acted before he could analyze it away.

"I was simply speculating," he said slowly, "that Vic is familiar with proper court etiquette even if she does not yet practice it, has never danced a step in her life, is accustomed to Edward's temperament and is of proper courtship age." The room fell into complete silence as the three rulers took in Sigmund's words. Edward's eyes nearly rolled from their sockets at the suggestion. Aya's mouth began to twist in a horrendous effort at holding back hysterics.

"Wait-" Capell spluttered, nearly as dumbfounded as his friend, "Vic… but he… _Vic's a girl?!"_ Heads pivoted to stare at Capell in disbelief who matched gazes with everyone, wide-eyed and bewildered.

A true smile of amusement spread over Sigmund's face after a moment, a chuckle rumbled low and quiet in his chest, growing louder to the amazement of the others.

And then, for the first time in decades, Sigmund shed his emotional armor and abandoned himself to open laughter.

Not because he had promised.

Because he had a son.

Fin

XXXX

**A/N**

**So if you read any of my other stories, you'll notice there is a bittersweet theme to all of them. In my Naruto stories people were dying left and right.**

**Here I wanted to do something different – so I let everyone live. I know a lot of you were asking me to kill people off – but this was a story of firsts for me and I wanted to write my first real happy ending. I also want to see Sigmund experience a lighter mood again – he'd been happy in his life once upon a time, and I wanted to show that his life would be happy again. Finding a way to make Sigmund laugh had been a trial for me – seriously, the man had barely smiled in twenty years! How the hell did I did I expect to pull THAT off??? Delusions of grandeur or something. Luckily Yami's idea saved me. Thanks Yami!!! **

**Thanks also to Reaper's Shadow, for proofing this chapter in order to kill the paranoia fairy that screamed I was missing something. To Metal-Maiko, whose "borrowed" muse helped me start this story in the first place; and to Adolthered, Natalie, satan966, Syeriox and all of the other fantastic readers who were kind enough to feed my review addiction and voice their opinions and encouragement. Thanks everyone!!**

**I'm thinking of doing a prequel to I.U. eventually. I'm kicking it around, since the only character that was given a real background was Sigmund – and that always bugged me. Not sure when I'll start it – I don't even have a plot yet…**

**I hope you enjoyed reading this. And I hope you'll come back and read some of my other works. **

**Peace!**


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